


Heart of Fire

by revampired



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Violence, all of the noncon is by random bandits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:30:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9244304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revampired/pseuds/revampired
Summary: Otabek Altin, a knight wandering without a purpose, comes across a kidnapped fairy one rainy day in the woods. Yuri Plisetsky, a fairy taken far from his home, tries to trust his savior and himself as they begin the treacherous journey back to his grandpa, on winding forest paths - but who knows what, or who, is lurking in the woods?Knight!Otabek/Fairy!Yuri AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know everyone and their mother probably has their own ideas about a knight/fairy au, but this is my take! I really wanted to write out the main two interacting with a bunch of different characters. Please let me know if you have any comments or constructive criticism! Next update on Wednesday :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey,” Otabek whispered through gritted teeth. “Hey, fairy.”
> 
> The fairy moved, slowly, and fixed Otabek with a pair of deep green eyes. Tendrils of blonde hair drooped over its face, framing his red-rimmed gaze and bitten lips. Otabek reached out a hand, tentative-
> 
> And yelped in pain as the fairy bit him with razor-sharp teeth.

A single droplet of rain passed by leaves, branches, and the fanned feathers of a bird in flight to land squarely on Otabek Altin’s nose. He gazed up at the sky from his resting position in the clearing and wondered, briefly, how long he had to cover up his gear and find shelter until the brewing storm began.

Not a moment later, a sheet of rain falling from the sky and soaking his clothes, his horse, and his possessions answered his question.

Otabek swore and jumped up to cover the essentials - maps and perishable food - before the rain ruined everything he owned. He should have been better prepared; the clouds had been gray and grumbling all day, but an unending, uneventful shift on forest patrol had tedium dulling his senses.

His horse snorted at him in irritation and shook away some droplets of rain from her eyelashes.

“Sorry, girl,” Otabek sighed, gritting his teeth, pulling them both back into the thickness of the wood. He couldn’t afford to have his sole travel companion, his loyal mare, mad at him.

The canopy was dense and lush and golden, but the rain dulled the bright reds and oranges to brown against the gray sky. It was cold, too - the chill of fall was beginning to nip at the tips of his ears and his nose.

Otabek stopped underneath a felled tree and plopped down, letting the rain soak the ground around him, taking in the moment of rest until-

Something black and smoldering appeared in the corner of his vision. It wasn’t fog from the rain; the wisps of white smoke plumed up from what was obviously a campfire.

A recently put out campfire. A _big_ recently put out campfire.

A sour expression clouded Otabek’s normally stoic face. Why _now?_ Deep in the forest, it was impossible to tell whether a fellow traveler was friend or foe.

He’d need to search them out before they found him, while they were presumably also hiding from the storm.

Otabek donned his dark cloak and gripped his dagger - no time for unwieldy swords if he was sneaking up on someone. “Stay here, stay quiet,” he whispered to his mare, burying his bags underneath dead leaves.

He slunk through the trees, careful to keep his horse in the corner of his eyes, carefully following the footprints by the campfire. Three - five men? Men and horses. Otabek winced. If they were all camped out somewhere, he stood no chance, but if they were separated…

The footsteps led to a clearing. He hid behind an oak trunk as a clearing opened into muddled gray light. From the footprints it looked like, just like him, this group had been caught in the rain and made a hasty retreat - but in which direction?

Otabek’s ears pricked up at a soft groaning sound to his right. In the clearing, drenched in rain, was… A young girl?

No, no - the curled up figure at the far end of the clearing had strange markings on his back, dark clawed hands, and most strikingly, deep green wings, folded and limp.

Otabek squinted and inched along the edge of the clearing towards the figure. A fairy, then. Legends spoke of the beautiful, mischievous creatures that lived in the unexplored corners of the forest, but Otabek had never seen one. He found his eyes drawn to his porcelain white limbs and long, limp golden hair, flowing down from the crown of the fairy’s head to cover the slender body like a cloak.

The fairy was completely naked, and appeared male. His whole body was bare save for the hair covering him, preserving his modesty. Was that normal? Otabek didn’t know. What clearly _wasn’t_ normal, however, was the thick length of rope binding his hands together and to the trunk of the tree.

Something else was off. The fairy was shivering violently, and there were red welts on the soles of his feet. The clawed ends of his hands were dulled and cracked.

Otabek frowned. He could leave, keep searching for whoever else was around. Something so clearly out in the open must be bait, anyway.

He couldn’t see the fairy’s face, but the way he curled up, the shivering - Otabek couldn’t leave him to whatever had left him out in the rain like this. He inched up to the tree the fairy was tied to.

“Hey,” Otabek whispered through gritted teeth. “Hey, fairy.”

The fairy moved, slowly, and fixed Otabek with a pair of deep green eyes. Tendrils of blonde hair drooped over its face, framing his red-rimmed gaze and bitten lips. Otabek reached out a hand, tentative-

And yelped in pain as the fairy bit him with razor-sharp teeth. The fairy struggled to its feet, wincing at the pain from the bright red welts on his soles. He was _definitely_ male, Otabek could see, now that he was standing, and he blushed slightly - something the fairy definitely noticed.

Otabek jumped back just in time to avoid being hit by a lightning-fast kick, then jolted to the left as a cloud of mud and rocks came crashing down where his head had been a moment ago.

“ _Fuck you!”_ the fairy shouted at him, “get fucked, you creepy perverted bastard! You ugly, dumb asshole, I’ll kill you-”

The fairy kicked out again, but the wounds on his feet were too much, too painful, and he collapsed to the ground with what sounded like a sob. He let out a strong string of expletives that froze Otabek in shock.

“Get the fuck away from me,” the fairy tried again, weaker this time. There was mud in his long, lovely hair, and he curled up as though trying to hide himself. Like a tied up animal.

Otabek’s eyes flitted around the clearing. No one moving in the rain, no sign of anyone else hiding in the trees. He pulled out the dagger at his hip.

The fairy’s eyes widened in terror and he scooted himself back against the tree, holding out his hands. “Wait, wait, don’t!”

Otabek ignored the squirming and cut away the binding ropes. The fairy paused for a moment, still trembling, and rubbed his wrists to ease the aches and red rope burn around them - then, without warning, he lunged at Otabek, knocking him backwards and closing his clawed hands around his neck.

He was strong, Otabek noticed, and his grip squeezed a dangerous pressure at Otabek’s throat.  His eyes were wild and terrified, his body bruised and trembling. Signs of abuse were blotched on his neck, his chest, his arms. Otabek knew he could grab the fairy by the hair and pull him off if he needed to, but he didn’t want to scare him.  

After a moment, the fairy seemed to give up trying to strangle him and rolled off, gasping for breath beside him.

“Who did this?” Otabek asked, gruffly, sitting up slowly so as not to startle. Wet earth was seeping through his pants. _God dammit_.

The fairy’s hair was draped over his face, and Otabek couldn’t see his expression, but he shuddered, visibly. “Bandits. Caught me a couple weeks ago, when I was walking through the woods. Fuckers.”

“Are they still around?”

A nod. “Hiding from the rain, that way,” he pointed to the far side of the clearing. “One of them was supposed to watch me, but he… wandered off.” His voice cracked at that.

Otabek puffed out a breath. “What’s your name?”

That seemed to catch the fairy off guard. He flushed, slightly. It was sweet, made him look gentle, Otabek thought.

“Oh, uh. Yuri. Yuri Plisetsky.”

Otabek nodded and pulled off his heavy cloak, wrapping it around Yuri’s slender, trembling shoulders. He stood, trying to ignore the steady patter of rain soaking through his clothes.

Yuri stared up at him in shock, pulling it tighter around himself. His eyes were a deep, forest green, his face slender and almost feminine. He looked young - maybe fifteen? Did fairies age the same?

“Well,” Otabek grumbled, “Do you want me to get you away from here or not?”

Yuri nodded frantically and stood on painful, trembling feet, stumbling after a step and falling into Otabek’s strong arms. He swore, again, and buried his face Otabek’s chest, breathing heavily. Yuri sniffled, softly, and pain tugged at Otabek.

_I’ll protect you_. The thought came unbidden, and a flush rose in Otabek’s cheeks. He lifted Yuri, who let out an indignant, and terrified, squawk, and draped him over his shoulder. He squirmed for a moment, then settled down. Soft, soaked strands of blonde hair tickled the backs of his legs, and Yuri’s body was warm against his shoulder. God help them if they ran into the same set of bandits.

“Sorry, Yuri,” Otabek acknowledged, as Yuri sniffled behind him, “We need to get out of here faster than you can walk.”

Back under the felled tree, Otabek sat Yuri side-saddle onto his faithful horse, who let out a groan but didn’t protest further. “Sorry, girl,” he apologized again, “let’s get somewhere safer. Back on the main road.”

Yuri lay down against the saddle, cloak covering his naked body, and closed his eyes. Otabek lead the horse, quietly as he could, through rain-soaked woods towards safety.

 

* * *

 

What Otabek thought was a quick cloudburst turned into a dark, growling thunder and lightning storm. Yuri was shivering and soaked through, even under the cloak, by the time they reached anything resembling shelter. There were inns and taverns scattered along the forest road, warm beds for weary travelers, but Otabek had no money to pay for them.

For the first time, he felt guilty at that, and more than a little miserable himself. There was an old cavernous outcropping he’d passed on one of his previous journeys in this direction, and after a frustrating, cold hour of searching through rain-muddled landmarks, he found it.

The thick tarps he had put over his bags kept enough scraps of paper and wood safe enough to start a small, smoky fire, and he lay out the dampest of his belongings to dry beside them.

They were all going to get pneumonia. It was the horse he was most worried about, barely covered by the rock outcropping - a sick person could still travel, a sick animal was as good as useless until the sickness went away. Also, she was his only companion, and probably the only reason he hadn’t gone crazy after so long alone. Plus, there was the question of Yuri, who could barely walk.

Maybe Otabek could carry him.  

Yuri was staring into the fire. There was a memory playing in his mind, Otabek could tell by the glazed, far away look in his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it was a good one.

In one of the bags, buried deep inside, was a blanket that was mostly dry. Otabek tossed it at Yuri, who started and scrambled to grab it. He slipped off the soaked one, firelight dancing off of the dark splotches on his skin, and buried himself underneath the new one without saying a word.

Otabek sighed and unclipped the suspenders holding his pants up, reached down to the waistband to peel his pants down. He needed to change out of his soaked clothes. A gasping sound caught his attention, and he looked up to see Yuri scrambling back, staring up at him in terror.

What?

Yuri pulled the blanket tighter around himself and clenched his legs together.

Oh.

Otabek exhaled, slowly, and pulled his suspenders back up, raising his hands and stepping away. He sat down next to the fire, trying to ignore the squelching sounds his clothes made. After a moment, Yuri slunk back to his spot beside the fire, eyeing him warily.

Rain echoed against the rocky roof of the cave, but the fire inside crackled on, and eventually everything began to warm. The wet belongings dried, though they smelled faintly of smoke, and even Otabek’s clothes stopped feeling quite so miserable. He still really needed to change, though.

Maybe if he got Yuri to soften up to him, he wouldn’t be so skittish. It wasn’t like Otabek could keep wearing the same outfit the entire time they were together - however long that was.

“Do they hurt?” he asked, gesturing to Yuri’s injured feet.

Yuri wrinkled his nose and nodded, eyes downcast.

“How long have you had them?”

Yuri looked up. “Why?” he snapped, suspiciously.

“Need to know which medicine to use.”

Yuri paused, surprised again. “Oh. Uh, just a few hours. They did that so I couldn’t run off during the storm.”

“Looks like it didn’t work,” Otabek offered, reaching into his bag to pull out a glass bottle of ointment and some bandages.

A hint of a smile crossed Yuri’s lips. “Yeah, looks like it didn’t.”

Otabek inched forward, trying not to move too quickly, trying not to startle. Yuri slowly stretched out his legs, wincing slightly as his calves touched the cold stone cave floor. They were more muscular than Otabek was expecting, considering his small frame, and he tried not to focus on the bruises mottled across them.

Yuri winced, slightly, as the cold ointment hit his wounds, and shivered as Otabek massaged it into the curves of his feet.

“It’s got mint in it, so it’s cooling,” Otabek explained, bandaging them tightly.

Yuri nodded and leaned back, relief spreading across his face. “Ahh,” he sighed, wriggling his toes. “Thank you… ah, who are you?”

Otabek raised his eyes. Had he really never introduced himself? “Otabek. Forest patrol. Knight.”

“You don’t look like a knight.”

Cheeky kid - though he couldn’t be too much younger than Otabek himself. His voice was deeper than expected, but still crackling with the edges of youth.

Otabek flushed. “I’m from one of the surrounding villages, not the main castle guard.”

“You gonna give me some clothes, Otabek the Knight?” Yuri asked, sullenly. There was a dark edge to his voice that made Otabek shiver.

“Do you want clothes?” Otabek asked.

Yuri flushed bright red, the tips of his elf-like ears lighting up. “Of course I fucking want clothes, you idiot!”

“I’ve never met a fairy before,” Otabek offered as an apology, tossing Yuri a mostly-dry shirt and pair of pants. He swallowed down the sinking horror of realization at what Yuri’s nudity might’ve meant.

Yuri slipped them on - they were way too big, swallowing him up, but he seemed content. Otabek offered him a length of rope to keep the pants up, and he only recoiled from it for a second before slipping the cord around his slim waist.

“I was raised by a human,” Yuri explained, “My grandpa.” His voice cracked at that, and he buried his face in his arms. “He must be so worried about me…”

Otabek frowned. “Where is he?”

“Back home, probably. God, I was so _stupid_ ,” Yuri beat his fists against the floor, furious and fearful at the same time. “He told me not to go off the path, but I saw a cat stuck in a trap across the creek…”

The pain in his voice was palpable. Otabek struggled to find something to stay. “Did the cat get away, at least?”

Yuri raised his head, eyes watery. “Yeah, he did.”

Otabek nodded. His pants were still soaked. “Yuri,” he tried, “I really need to change out of my wet clothes.”

A spasm of fear passed over Yuri’s face, but he took a deep breath and clenched his shaking fists. “O-oh, uh, okay. But, stay over there, so I can see you.”

“You… want to watch me?” Otabek frowned.

Yuri turned bright red. “Not - not like that, you fucking creep!” he spluttered, “Just… Keep your hands where I can see them.”

Otabek’s frown deepened. He was self-conscious, but then, hadn’t he left Yuri in just a blanket? He supposed it was fair and turned around. A prickle of discomfort slowed his movements as he changed into a fresh pair of pants, and his body was warm as he flushed with embarrassment.

Once he was done, he turned around to find Yuri staring into the fire again, hands hovering above it - and was it just him, or was it slightly bigger than before?

A gloomy, rainy day darkened into night with little sign of the rain letting up. Otabek split a hunk of cheese and stale bread for the two of them to eat, and Yuri gulped it down, barely chewing the chunks before swallowing. Eventually, everything dried out, and the crackling of the fire had Yuri blinking heavily, lying on his side.

“Sleep,” Otabek suggested, “I’ll keep watch.”

Yuri didn’t protest. He bunched some clothes into a pile for a pillow and covered himself with the blanket, fast asleep before his head touched the pillow.

The night wore on and eventually the rain slowed, softened, and stopped. Otabek took a moment to set some rudimentary alarms outside the cave, his possessions mostly dry, ready to sleep. He lay one more blanket over Yuri, covered himself in his cloak, and moved to snuff out the fire -

A muffled sound jolted his attention away. Otabek wheeled around, looking for the source - he heard it again.

Crying?

Oh.

Otabek peered over to where Yuri was buried under the thick blankets. His shoulders were shaking, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nooo,” he mumbled in his sleep, “no, _don’t_ , I don’t wanna…”

“Yuri?” Otabek murmured, trying to rouse him.

“Stop it, no-”

“ _Yuri_ ,” Otabek called, a little bit louder.

“No, no, _help me-_ ”

“Yuri!” Otabek lunged forward as Yuri’s night terrors caused a convulsion that brought his head dangerously close to the glowing embers of the fire, and he gripped Yuri’s shoulders to push him back.

Yuri’s eyes snapped open and he swept a clawed hand up, slicing a gash along Otabek’s cheek.

“ _Don’t touch me!_ ” he spat, curling his fists into a ball.

Otabek swore and raised his palm to his cheek, where a stinging, puffy red line had appeared. He didn’t doubt for a moment that if Yuri’s claws hadn’t been dulled, presumably by his captors, he would have had a very nasty scar.

For a moment, Yuri’s eyes darted to the cave entrance, and his body coiled like he was ready to flee into the darkness. Then, he closed his eyes and shuddered, breathing slowly steadying, body slumping to the floor.

Yuri looked up at Otabek and his eyes slid to his cheek. “Shit,” he whispered, “Did I…?”

Otabek nodded, carefully dabbing some of the same ointment he’d used on Yuri onto the line on his cheek.

Yuri winced. “Sorry, it was, I was just…”

“Nightmare,” Otabek filled in. Yuri nodded, then buried his head in his hands and cried.

It was impossible, even with the stinging mark on his cheek, for Otabek to be upset. Mostly, he was helpless - nothing he’d trained for had prepared him to help a traumatized kid, and he desperately wanted to.

He moved, slowly, hands where Yuri could see them, and re-wrapped the blanket around Yuri’s shoulders as he cried. “You’re safe here,” he tried.

Yuri cackled, unpleasantly, through his tears. “Yeah, ‘till you decide you wanna keep me for yourself.”

Otabek frowned. “I’ll get you home. Tomorrow, first light, we’ll set out.”

Yuri groaned and flopped down, snorting out a laugh that turned into a sob. “Yeah, alright, whatever.” He settled back down on the cold cave floor, head on the pile of clothes, and curled into a ball. “Don’t get handsy when I’m asleep, or I’ll…” he paused, then all of the energy in him seemed to dissipate. His face crumpled at his hopelessness, and he didn’t bother to finish the thought.

  
The quiet cave seemed claustrophobic, even as Yuri’s breathing became steadier, and the reality of Otabek’s uselessness threatened to overwhelm him. He sighed, snuffed out the remaining embers, and slept fitfully.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I heard you have a fairy with you,” a stranger in a thick black cloak was hissing at him.
> 
> “Mm,” Otabek mumbled, noncommittally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I made Yuri cry a little bit more than he does in canon, but I also figure he has a pretty good reason to. As always, please leave any comments or constructive criticism you may have! Next update on Saturday (or Sunday, but hopefully Saturday). 
> 
> I'm not sure if people still do this kind of thing, but I'd recommend reading this fic while listening to a lot of Faun:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CK5MdsewTjM  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dI4WY0BMduY
> 
> Or Avalon Rising:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VahqUqcVBAc
> 
> That's what I listen to when I write it :)

“I just… I’ve never had this happen before.”

The rumble of voices pulled Yuri from sleep early the next morning, just before dawn. The thickness of rain-soaked air drew into his lungs and settled there, chilling him to the bone.

“What do _you_ think I should do?”

Otabek’s voice. Yuri blinked a few times, eyes still sticky from rest, before a gripping panic took hold of him. _Who else was there?_ He sprang up, gripping the cave wall to brace himself against the pain in his feet.

Otabek stared at him, standing in front of his horse with his palms up, mid thought.

“Were you talking to your _horse_?” Yuri spluttered, fighting to keep the incredulity from his voice.

Otabek blushed red. “ _No_ ,” he responded, deliberately not meeting Yuri’s eyes.

 _Oh, yes he was_. Yuri sank to his knees, letting out a bark of relieved laughter, gripping his shirt to steady the pounding in his chest. Otabek blushed and walked away from the tied-up mare, sheepish.

True to his word, as soon as the first ray of light fluttered into the mouth of the cave, Otabek packed up his belongings and prepared for a grueling journey. He re-lit the fire and slid a pan of salt pork and crispy, fried bread onto it, stomach rumbling as the scent filled the small enclosure.

Yuri’s stomach growled loud enough for Otabek to hear, and he clasped his hands over it, embarrassed. As the food cooked, Otabek re-bandaged Yuri’s feet and pulled out a few parchment maps.

“We’re here,” he explained, pointing to a swath of forest, “Here’s the castle. There are three main routes that I know get us back to it. There’s the main road,” he drew his finger along a black inked line, dotted with markings for watchtowers, “these back roads,” he pointed towards a few winding paths, “or, we cut directly through the forest. That way’s fastest, if you know how to navigate it.”

Yuri shook his head. “No way. Nuh uh. I’m done with this goddamn forest. Take me on the main road, Otabek.”

Otabek rubbed his temples. “I will if you need me to, but that way’s a good while longer.”

Yuri bit his lip. “Okay. What about the backroads?”

The salt pork crackled and sizzled with the bread. Otabek pulled it off the fire and set it aside to cool. “A few days longer.”

Yuri agreed to a combination of main and back roads, though he still adamantly refused to take the shortcuts through the woods. He and Otabek feasted on bread and salt pork, Yuri scarfing down his potion and half of Otabek’s, and his eyes still gleamed with hunger afterwards. Pity tugged at Otabek, and he tossed him a loaf of bread. Yuri gnawed on it, teeth breaking through the tough crust, and when he looked up again there was a sliver of a cut on his cheek from how hard the bread was.

In the misty light of morning, they set off.

* * *

Otabek let Yuri keep control of the maps, carefully pointing out where on their route they were. Yuri tried to pretend that he had some idea how to read a map, so Otabek didn’t think he could just go off-route with no consequences. Of course, he had no idea what he would do if that happened.

Everything _ached_. His body was sore from being crumpled up in the wagon, from the constant beatings and worse, and his long hair was matted and tangled from the mud. He longed for his warm bed, his soft clothes, and bubbling of the water or the sizzling of oil as his Grandpa made homemade pirozhkis.

Yuri needed to plead and pray that Otabek’s intentions were good, that he truly was leading him home, because Yuri was _lost_. He’d never been more than a mile into the forest before the fateful day he was kidnapped.

There were many opportunities that Otabek could’ve hurt him, but he didn’t. Still, how many men saw his fear, heard him beg for help, but let a gold coin stay their tongues or two gold coins change their conscience completely?

_Well, I’ve never had a fairy before…_

He willed the memory away. It lurked at the edges of his mind like a beast, hiding in the shadows until he was vulnerable enough to strike.

The sun beat down on them, but the shade was too cold. Yuri clenched and unclenched his feet to feel the sting of the welts, and bits of cracked mud crumbled off. He was sweaty and disgusting, his skin crawling with every jolt on the horse’s back.

“Otabek,” Yuri called, sometime around midday, “I need to bathe.”

Otabek blinked up at him. “Now?”

Yuri nodded, demanding.

“Okay,” Otabek agreed, seeming bemused. “Can stop for a while, soon. There’s a creek just off the main road.”

After what seemed like forever, but must’ve only been a few miles, the woosh of rushing water reached them, as did a wide, indented dirt road.

Mist rose from the rushing water, white foam whipping around rocks. A slightly stiller pool ebbed and flowed from a deep outcropping of rock. Perfect.

Otabek sliced off a sliver of hard, yellow soap and tossed it to Yuri.

“Turn around,” Yuri demanded, cheeks heating in embarrassment. Otabek did as he was told, sitting against a nearby tree with his back to Yuri, who pulled off the too-loose clothing and lay it down.

The water was _freezing_. It sent shocks of sharp, icy cold through Yuri as he kneeled down on the rock, and he gasped as it knocked the breath from him.

“You okay?” Otabek called, back still turned.

“F-fine,” Yuri spluttered. The soap trembled in his hands as he slathered it all over himself, and he whimpered as he splashed water over the newly cleaned bits of skin. It was so cold it _hurt_ , but Yuri didn’t stop until the entire sliver of soap was gone and he was scratching the last bits of dirt off of his body, leaving red, sometimes bloody lines on his arms and the backs of his thighs.

 _Good,_ Yuri snarled inwardly, _I’m gonna scratch off every bit of skin. No one will want me then_.

His hair was a nightmare. He remembered sitting by a hot pool of water at home, combing softening oils through the shiny gold length - here, he ran his fingers down part way before hitting a tangled mess, even as the mud washed out. After a few minutes of kneeling in the icy water, picking at the snags and pulling out the strands in frustration, he gave up.

Yuri used a scrap of cloth to dry the dampest parts of himself, wincing as the cold ground and sharp rocks cut into his already injured feet, then gasped in relief as Otabek’s thick clothing wrapped around him. “Hey Otabek,” he called, “Give me your knife.”

Otabek peeked around, then turned fully once he saw Yuri was dressed. His eyes followed from the trembling in Yuri’s shoulders to the bright red scratch marks on his arms.

“Why?” he asked, suspicious.

“I need to cut my fucking hair,” Yuri snapped. “Unless you wanna do it.”

“I can,” Otabek offered.

Yuri blinked in surprise, then sighed, sitting down with a wince. He couldn’t stand much longer. “Go ahead. I can’t stop you.”

Otabek’s face made an odd expression at that - upset? Shocked? Yuri couldn’t tell. He closed his eyes and let Otabek’s warm, calloused hands run through the tangled strands, pulling apart gently what he could. He felt the sharpness, the coldness of the metal knife radiating off of it, in contrast to the gentle way Otabek pulled his hair into a ponytail.

“Not too short,” Yuri demanded, though it sounded more like pleading.

A pull, the sound of slicing, and Yuri’s blonde hair fell limply onto his cheeks, just below his chin. He ran his fingers through it, through the ragged and dull strands, making sure nothing was tangled.

Tears welled up in his eyes, unbidden. He’d never had his hair so short before, and he wiped them away bitterly before Otabek could feel bad about it. The hair had needed to go. Weeks of awful conditions, of people pulling it and tangling it and stepping on it, had matted it beyond repair. Had made him hate the way it fluttered around him like rays of sunshine, golden and shining.

Otabek re-bandaged his feet and helped Yuri back onto the horse. _Thank you_ got stuck in Yuri’s throat, so he swallowed it down and let the journey continue in the same strange silence.

The matted, golden threads of his hair floated down the stream, mingling with foam and getting stuck on stones in the water.

* * *

They traveled on twisting, winding back roads for a day and a half before linking back with the main path, stopping only to eat and to sleep fitfully. Exhaustion weighed Yuri down, and his legs were beginning to ache with the effort of staying on the horse. He couldn’t imagine what Otabek must’ve been feeling, walking the entire way.

Otabek’s feet were developing blisters. They stung, raw against even his thick woolen socks and sturdy leather boots.

The main path was damp with dew from the night before, from a wet few days that hadn’t helped the damage from the rainstorm, and mud squelched underfoot. At one point, the horse slipped and almost fell, and Yuri had yelped as Otabek had to place his hands in Yuri’s hips to steady him.

Yuri still had nightmares, and flashes of memory that made his eyes go glassy and his attention falter, but they weren’t loud like they were the first night. Otabek worried at that - how was he supposed to know if anything was wrong?

Otabek also worried at the sky, which was gray and growling, threatening rain just like it had the day he’d met Yuri.

They hadn’t run into many travelers since getting back onto the main road, another concerning fact. Otabek was so far removed from news, he wasn’t sure if there had been bandit attacks or mercenaries hiding out in the woods, preying on weaker, smaller groups of travelers.

Just as he finished the thought, the jingling of bells and a jarring honk of a horn from further up the path drew their attention. Otabek thought he remembered someone - could it be…?

The duo came across a brightly colored caravan, pink and blue with gold trim, surrounded by an equally colorful cast of characters. Yuri eyed them warily. He didn’t like large groups of travelers, ones with caravans they could hide goods or people in.

As they approached the travelers, a loud, cheery voice resounded among the jingling and chattering and music. “Otabek? Is that you?”

A dark skinned man in a bright blue costume leapt out of one of the caravans, did a cartwheel, and launched himself at Otabek to pull him into a tight hug. Otabek stiffened, but he pat the strange man on the back and mumbled, “It’s good to see you again, Phichit.”

Phichit grinned and pulled back - then he noticed Yuri. “Ohh, hi!” he beamed, “Who are you? Are you a friend of Otabek’s? Honestly, I thought the horse was his only friend, but I _guess_ he’s got someone else now! Oh, that reminds me! I’ve been really into sonnets, these days, I guess I should compose one about running into you again. They’re a huge hit in the local villages.”

Yuri stared at Phichit, half bemused and half annoyed. How could any one person be so damn cheerful?

“Cool,” Otabek said, emotionless. “The kid’s Yuri. He was lost in the woods, I’m helping him home.”

Phichit seemed to droop. “Aw, so not a friend. I was so excited for you… Oh well, welcome, Yuri!”

“I hate you,” Yuri said in a strangled voice.

Phichit laughed and Yuri turned bright red. “You’re so cute! Hey, why don’t you two walk with us for a while? I’ve heard some scary people are lurking in the woods, these days - can’t be too careful. And if it rains you can sleep under a roof. Or, well, a wagon roof.”

He pulled out a piece of parchment and a pen as he walked away, mumbling to himself “O happy day, that brought him back, Otabek… O-ta-BEK… Damn, what rhyme scale does that fit into?”

Otabek puffed out a breath, smiling softly and shaking his head. He glanced up at Yuri, both of them mulling over Phichit’s warning. _Scary_ _people are lurking in the woods, these days_. “What do you say? We can walk with them until the path breaks off again.”

Yuri didn’t _like_ the gaudy, chatty characters around the caravan, but he didn’t dislike them either. They mostly hurt his head with how cheerful they were, though he remembered his grandpa bringing him to a travelling performance as a little kid. “How do you know Phichit?” he asked, by way of an answer.

“We’ve crossed paths a few times, when I’ve been on patrol,” Otabek explained. “I trust him.”

Yuri nodded. “Okay, okay.” _I trust you_ , Yuri thought, _I think_ .  _I hope_.

Phichit brought Otabek a horse, and he tried to mask his relief as he mounted for Yuri’s sake, but he couldn’t quite help the satisfied sigh he let out as he stretched his legs and wiggled his toes.

With a loud drumbeat and even more ringing bells, the troupe set off along the path to the castle.

Though it was gaudy, Yuri enjoyed how the performers would sing songs, or juggle on horseback, or recite verse to keep spirits up. He enjoyed even more how the other troupe members would throw old socks at the performer if they hit a note off-key, or were otherwise  awful.

Otabek rode next to Yuri, and even he seemed in higher spirits than usual. “Troupes like this used to come by my village sometimes. It’s so far away, and so isolated, that it was a huge event. Everyone in town would gather in the main square when they’d come by once, maybe twice a year.”

Yuri glanced at Otabek. “That’s interesting,” he said, genuine. He thought of his Grandpa. Maybe once he was home, he’d drag him out of the house for a performance, and they’d watch together. “Do you… Do you ever get to watch these with your village anymore?”

Suddenly, Otabek seemed melancholy. “No,” he said simply, and Yuri didn’t question him further.

 _Maybe he misses home, too_ , Yuri thought.

That night, the caravan stopped in a clearing just off the path. They shared food with Otabek and Yuri, who offered maps in return. Sprinklings of rain came down throughout the night, and many of the travelers, both from the troupe and strays they’d picked up, gathered into the caravan to sleep.

Yuri shuddered at the thought of sleeping on a wooden wagon floor, so he piled himself on a sack of potatoes, hoping it’d help.

In the dim light of dawn, he woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and mistook the string holding the sack together for a rope around his wrist. Swallowing his screams, he stumbled backwards and tumbled right onto Otabek, who gasped awake.

Yuri tried to calm down, but the fear was too fresh. He buried his face in Otabek’s chest, reminding himself _just a dream, just a dream_ , trembling like the twigs in the wind outside. Otabek swallowed, tired, and reached up to run his fingers through Yuri’s short hair. His hands were gentle, comforting, soft as they stroked along the strands of gold.

“Just a dream,” he murmured, hand soft as it ran through the strands. “Just a dream.”

Otabek dozed back off, midway through soothing Yuri. Yuri took a few deep breaths and lay awake against him, as warm as his bed from home, until the sun was high on the horizon.

 

* * *

 

The next day continued much the same as the previous. The sky was a bit clearer, the sun a bit brighter, and Yuri and Otabek’s spirits a bit higher, despite the night before. Paranoia still crept along with them, keeping Yuri in a constant state of unease, but it was better than the first day.

Yuri found he didn’t even mind Phichit’s chattering, or his infectious smile, as he sidled up next to Otabek to discuss the maps.

“So, this route leads across the river here? So you can bypass the toll?” Phichit was asking.

Otabek nodded. “It’s well protected, too, but by village guards as opposed to castle guards.”

“How do they feel about travelling performers?” Phichit asked, darkly.

“They’ll let you through,” Otabek assured him.

Once Phichit rode back to the front to lead the pack, Yuri turned to Otabek. “Did you make these?” He asked, impressed at the detailing, at the extensive network of routes and winding paths. He’d never seen anything like them in the maps his school library kept.

Otabek’s flushed a light pink. “Yeah. Gotta keep my mind occupied on patrol.”

They stopped early that night to practice, as the next town loomed close on the horizon. The golden edges of the costumes and the silver-colored bells glinted in the soft orange fire light, the shadows of night time in the forest seeming to dance alongside the actors and musicians. As the wind whistled through the trees, Phichit whistled a tune to match.

A pale man with jet black hair and thick eyebrows caught Yuri’s attention. He was wearing an ostentatious red, yellow, and blue shirt, and a pair of sparkly, equally gaudy cardboard wings which bounced up and down as he walked.

“Hey,” Yuri snapped at him, “What the hell are you supposed to be?”

The man glared. “I’m a fairy,” he sniffed.

Yuri turned bright red. “That’s not what we look like!” he shouted, waving his hands in anger, “Like I’d be caught dead in that dumb-ass shirt!”

Phichit stopped whistling and gaped at Yuri. “Wooow,” he exclaimed, “You’re a fairy? A real fairy?”

Suddenly, Yuri became aware of a few pairs of interested eyes, and he stepped back, self conscious and a little afraid. “Y-yeah,” he said, “Got a problem with it?”

“No, no!” Phichit trilled, circling him with interest, “Wow, can I see your wings? What can you do? I heard fairy dust can heal all wounds, even a broken heart. Wow, that would make a great sonnet…”

“Fairy dust isn’t real,” Yuri said, flatly, hands starting to shake. “And I’m not gonna show you my wings.”

Phichit pouted, disappointed. “Aw. Do you have powers? Did Otabek do something stupid and get indebted to you?” He gasped, his hands on his cheeks. “Are you taking him to your fairy queen?”

“That’s enought, Phichit,” Otabek scolded.

Phichit took a look at Yuri, at his nervous expression and tensed shoulders. He backed up with a huff. “Okay, okay. Seung-Gil, let’s go practice.”

Seung-Gil nodded. He turned to Yuri and Otabek and asked with a frown, “Is it comfortable to wear a shirt over your wings?”

Yuri shrugged. “It’s like wearing a hat on your head all the time.”

Seung-Gil nodded and stalked off to rehearse.

“Phichit doesn’t mean any harm,” Otabek assured Yuri.

Yuri nodded, but fear was beginning to take root, and suddenly the bright colors and jubilation of the group seemed sinister and claustrophobic. He imagined himself tangled in the bright curtains, unable to escape, and he shuddered.

Otabek set up the tent that night, so Yuri didn’t need to sleep in the caravan, and Yuri excused himself from the nighttime socialization to curl up in a pile of Otabek’s clothing.

Yuri picked up the deep, rich tones of Otabek’s voice, and half wondered if Otabek was conversing with his horse again. He wasn’t alone, though, Yuri realized as a rasping growl came from his companion - not Phichit, not Seung-Gil. He didn’t know who it was, and when he peeked out of the tent, he saw another stray traveler dressed in all black. Not a performer. Suspicion overtook him, and he strained his ears to pick up their words.

What he heard made his blood run cold.

* * *

 

“I heard you have a fairy with you,” a stranger in a thick black cloak was hissing at him.

Otabek frowned, peering at the man in black beside him. He had been enjoying a particularly dramatic number, one about a maiden traveling from town to town, seducing all of the men and then disappearing, clad in their gold and silver gifts.

“Mm,” he mumbled, noncommittally.

“How’d you find him?” The stranger pressed him again.

“Found him in the woods,” Otabek answered, purposely being as vague as possible. There was something about the stranger’s tone that put him off.

The stranger whistled. “Is he going anywhere… In particular?”

Otabek shivered, unease pooling in his stomach. “Home,” he said, shortly.

“Alright,” the stranger warbled, “I can see you’re not one for small talk. I’ll give you three gold pieces for him.”

Otabek choked on air, shock freezing him in place.

“What?” he spluttered, coughing.

“I’ll give you three-”

“Shut up,” Otabek snapped, “That’s not what I meant. He’s not for sale. Who are you-”

The stranger whistled, jangling his coin purse suggestively. “Okay, big guy. Five gold pieces.”

Otabek stood, trembling in anger. “He’s _not_ for sale,” he spat, “The sale of humans and human-like creatures is forbidden by royal law, in decree fifty-”

“Everyone can be bought,” the stranger snarled. “Do you have any idea how much money fairies can get you?”

“I don’t want your money, not for this,” Otabek shouted, “I’m a knight in my village guard, and I’m going to report you to the nearest-”

Ugly, choked cackling crackled from the man in black. “Don’t lie to me. I know you’re not actually a knight, you have no armor, you’re living on _scraps_ . I can see you’ve re-sewn that same shirt, probably a half-dozen times - doesn’t seem like standard issue to me. You have no papers to protect you. These bawdy, shameful entertainers have probably shown you the most luxury you’ve seen in _years._ ”

Otabek clenched his fists so hard they turned _white_. “You know nothing about-”

“I’ll give you ten gold pieces. That could buy whatever backwater village you crawled out of - ouch!”

A rush of anger blurred Otabek’s senses and he landed a punch directly on the stranger’s nose. Then, he grabbed him by the cloak and dragged him over to where Phichit was composing another poetic piece.

Yuri slipped out of the tent to observe behind a pile of props, plotting an escape route, wondering if he would need to flee into the night.

“Phichit,” Otabek growled, throwing the stranger in the cloak down at his feet. “Who is this?”

Phichit shrugged, suddenly serious at the anger on Otabek’s face. “A stray we picked up. What happened?”

“Help me!” The stranger pleaded, “I don’t know what’s wrong, we were chatting and he attacked me. He’s - he’s lying about being a knight! His ring is outdated, he can’t really be one!”

“I know,” Phichit said, and the cold edge in his voice made Yuri shudder. “Otabek, what happened?”

Otabek’s voice trembled as he answered, “He asked me to sell Yuri. So I punched him.”

The stranger snarled and jerked himself out of Otabek’s grasp, tone changing immediately. “I offered him ten gold coins. Surely _you_ wouldn’t give up such a lucrative offer?”

All of the cheeriness was gone from Phichit’s voice as he murmured, “Is that what you think of us?”

“Fine. If you won’t take my offer, I’ll go get the damn thing _myself_.”

Otabek reached for his sword, but before his hand even touched the hilt, Phichit had produced a dagger from underneath his ruffled blue shirt and pressed it to the stranger’s throat.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about performers like us,” he hissed, “But we don’t tolerate slavery. And we’re more prepared for people like you than you think.”

The stranger gagged, unable to swallow for fear of slitting his own throat on the razor-sharp knife’s edge.

“Otabek,” Phichit continued, “Help me show this man out of our troupe.”

Otabek nodded, shortly, and grabbed the stranger from Phichit. He ignored the frightened squawking, _but it’s nighttime_ , and forced him out into the darkness of the forest, slicing a warning shallowly into his cheek.

Everything was quiet. The performers had stopped their practice at the commotion, the last chords of music were fading off into the night.

Phichit sighed and slumped down, head in hands. “I’ve tried so hard,” he mumbled, melancholy, “To go all around and show even the furthest villages that we’re normal people. Spent all this time trying to realize that we _don’t_ go around stealing and selling little boys and girls from the towns we visit.”

“Phichit…” Otabek began.

“We try to be generous, so people can get to know us better, then scum like _that_ rides with us, and we’re guilty by association.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Otabek tried to assure him.

Phichit groaned. “I never should’ve gotten so excited about Yuri.” He nodded his head towards the forest, “And I should have killed him instead of letting him get away. Who knows what he’s going to tell people. Tell the knights.”

Otabek snorted, not unpleasantly. “You know the knights around here love you. You’re not a killer, Phichit.”

“You’re right,” Phichit puffed out a breath, putting on an air of determination. “He’s gone, and we’re not gonna worry about this anymore. I’m gonna write my next hit sonnet about this - that’ll set the record straight.” He closed his eyes, clapped his hands, and plastered his cheery grin right back on. “Also, Yuri’s been listening in this whole time. You should probably go let him know everything’s okay, and… And, that I’m sorry.”

Otabek nodded, startled. He peered over to the pile of props, where Yuri was peeking out to see if he needed to make a run for it. Phichit went over to call an end to practice for the night, and Otabek went back to kneel beside Yuri.

“He’s gone,” he said, simply.

Yuri exhaled, suddenly aware of how tightly he’d been holding his breath. He slumped forward, the tension coiling in his muscles suddenly gone, and buried his head in a pile of pink fabric.

“Yuri?” Otabek asked, concerned.

“‘M okay,” Yuri mumbled. He looked up at Otabek, exhausted and still a little on edge. “Hey, Otabek, what did he mean by ‘you’re not really a knight?’”

Otabek winced, a shock of cold running through him. He didn’t like talking about that, but he found he didn’t like Yuri distrusting him even more. A soft fire flickered by the tent, one he didn’t remember setting, and he eyed it warily.

“I was a knight,” Otabek murmured, not looking at Yuri. “I am still a knight, I guess. They like to hire locals to protect their homes. Makes it harder for them to be bought out by bandits. So, the day I turned sixteen, I signed up - as one of two village knights. One of us would go out on patrol, the other would stay to watch the town.”

Yuri nodded. There was a strange warmth radiating from him, and Otabek wondered if it wasn’t his vivid memories making him feel phantom sensations.

“I was out on a month-long patrol, about a year after signing up, and I could smell smoke everywhere in the forest. I thought it was a forest fire, so I rode home to warn everyone, and I came back to find a smouldering ruin where my village was.” He closed his eyes, swallowing down a lump in his throat and trying to ignore how his deep voice got even deeper with emotion. “I don’t know what happened. I found a few bodies, but most people had escaped into the woods. I never found them, so I just… Left on patrol. And I never went back.”

“What happened?” Yuri gasped.

Otabek shrugged, eyes downcast. “I don’t know. It must’ve been set intentionally though, if the whole village was destroyed. We only had the one other knight…”

“Didn’t anyone come looking for you?” Yuri asked, voice almost a whisper.

Otabek shrugged again. “We were isolated. The kingdom maps barely made it out to us. That’s partly why I’ve been making up my own. Maybe one day I’ll deliver them to the archives.”

Yuri paused, opened his mouth, closed it again. Then, eyes downcast, hair covering half of his face, he mumbled. “Otabek… Thank you.”

He bit his lip, clenched his eyes shut, and threw his arms around Otabek’s neck, holding him tight.

Otabek hugged Yuri back, his hand feeling the rough outline of his wings beneath his shirt. Yuri was so warm, like his own little campfire. When they pulled away, both of them had cheeks flushed pink, both looked away from each other nervously. Yuri ran his fingers through his blonde hair, and Otabek gave Yuri a stiff thumbs up.

Yuri smiled, softly, and Otabek smiled back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An illuminated blue bulb appeared, the flame of a torch, getting closer and closer. Otabek’s torch had been orange - had the fire gotten hotter with more kindling?
> 
> Whoever it was had a dark cloak and a covered face, just like…
> 
> Just like the stranger from the caravan.
> 
> Fuck, Yuri swore internally, god fucking dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The semester's starting up, but the fic is mostly written, so updates should still be regular. Here's some more music for your fic-reading pleasure:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiwuQ6UHMQg
> 
> As always, leave comments or constructive criticism below!

A wooded path, a back road, approached. Yuri drew his finger along the main road to where it linked up with a rugged shortcut. It had been long enough, he trusted Otabek to lead him through more secluded paths, and he wanted to go  _ home _ . 

They said goodbye to the performers, and Yuri even managed a spasm of a smile at Phichit as they pulled off from the pack. 

Yuri’s feet had healed considerably with the help of the ointment, and he found he could give Otabek short stretches of relief and walk beside the horse until the still-raw marks started to sting again.

The energy between the two of them had shifted, positively - both of them noticed it, and both of them let it guide their conversation. 

“Where did Phichit learn to fight?” Yuri asked. “My grandpa always said performers were weak, vulnerable. I dance, actually, and my teachers always looked down on them.”

“He used to be a knight,” Otabek responded.

“What?” Yuri spluttered. “So, then, why the hell is he running around with a bunch of  _ actors _ ?”

“No stomach for fighting,” Otabek said. “He grew up in a traveling theater troupe, actually, but when he was a kid…” He trailed off.

Yuri frowned. “What?” 

Otabek looked up at him, nervous. “It’s a sad story.” 

Yuri glared. “I can handle it, Otabek.”

Otabek sighed and ruffled his hair. “A group of bandits had attacked and killed a different troupe, and was travelling around to far-off villages, stealing kids in the middle of the night. Some they sold off as mercenaries, or other things, and sometimes they raided and plundered the village once they were let in. The actual troupes were pretty heavily persecuted because of all the fear and paranoia, so Phichit’s parents sent him away to get a safer education.” He had a far-away look in his eyes. “He never much enjoyed fighting, though, and he always dreamed of going back to his roots.”

Pain throbbed in Yuri’s chest, and he looked away. “Why doesn’t someone  _ do _ something?” he muttered, angry.

Otabek turned to him. “What do you mean?”

Yuri waved his hands, angry. “I mean, there are just these  _ bandits _ hanging around, doing whatever they want,  _ hurting _ people - and even the noble, kingdom knights can’t do anything about it. Why not?”

Otabek’s eyes clouded, sadly. “I don’t know,” he responded, sullenly. “I wish I could do something about it.” 

They rode in silence a while longer, until curiosity overcame them, and finally the discussion shifted to themselves. 

Otabek asked Yuri about his schooling (elite, Yuri was fully literate and had been taught like any other human child), his combat training (pretty extensive, he was top of his fencing class despite being half the size of most other kids), his grandpa (Yuri talked Otabek’s ear off about him for hours).

Yuri asked about where Otabek learned mapmaking (from the other village knight, nearly twenty years his senior), how he sustained himself in the forest (hunting, fishing, and trading maps for cheese), and what village life had been like (boring, mostly, and if you screwed something up everyone knew about it by the end of the day). 

As the sun began to sink beneath the horizon, Yuri noticed a change in Otabek. He wasn’t smiling as easily, and there was a tension in his expression. It wasn’t him, he was pretty sure, but it worried him nonetheless. 

Otabek pitched the tent in a flat, secluded area, and Yuri noticed he set more traps and alarms than normal around them, and kept the flames of the fire low even as they cooked their dinner. He tried not to worry, but even the warm presence of Otabek beside him didn’t carry him easily to sleep.

* * *

 

Finally, it got to be too much. The next day, their conversation was slow and halting, and Otabek checked behind him every few miles. 

Fear prickled through Yuri, threatening to explode out of him, and he snapped, “Otabek, what the hell is wrong?”

Otabek started and looked up at him. “Oh… I hoped you wouldn’t notice,” he explained, sheepishly. “I didn’t want to worry you.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Well, now I’m even more worried,” he sniffed.

Otabek took a deep breath, “Yuri… I think someone’s following us.”

A chill crept up Yuri’s spine. “Someone… Who?”

“I have a guess,” Otabek said, grimly, “But I’m not sure. I think they’ve been following since we left the troupe. They’re sneaky, but I checked around our campsite yesterday and I found some snapped twigs, and a bit of snagged fabric.”

“Outside the traps though, right?” Yuri worried.

“Outside the traps.” Otabek reached into his belt and pulled out his dagger. “Here,” he offered, “You should have this.”

Yuri gulped and nodded as he took the blade. He knew how to fight with a dagger, but he couldn’t help the nagging worry. What if when he needed it most, his strength failed him, just like-

The wind rustled through the leaves behind him and he swung around, suddenly aware of every sound and sensation around him. 

“He won’t attack now,” Otabek reassured Yuri, though he felt a twinge of fear at the snap of a twig. “We’ll need to set up watch at night. Keep your guard up.” 

* * *

The two of them didn’t settle into their easy nighttime routine as unease kept them from chatting and made the food churn in their stomachs. Long, golden threads of light seeped through thick, leafy branches and disappeared, darkening the shadows around their small camp.

“I’m going to set up the traps,” Otabek said, the tension too much for him to keep still, “Before it gets fully dark. I’ll be close by, so just shout if anything happens.”

_ Don’t go _ , Yuri wanted to whine, but he nodded in an attempt at bravery. They didn’t know what the person following them wanted, though if it was who Yuri and Otabek suspected, he had a pretty solid guess, but if it was a horse or goods someone would need to stay behind to protect the campsite. 

Immediately after Otabek disappeared with a torch into the shadows of the forest, a feeling of unease washed over Yuri. It was too quiet - the wind howling through the trees had become a steady background noise, but tonight all was still. 

Twigs crackled behind him, and the firelight glinted strongly enough to illuminate a mouse burrowing under a fallen branch. Yuri gripped his chest and tried to steady his breath.

From deeper in the forest, Yuri heard a shout, what sounded like someone grunting in pain. Dread washed over him, and his hands shook. He didn’t dare call out for Otabek, not sure who had made the sound. 

The glowing firelight was a beacon, a flame attracting moths to where Yuri sat, alone. He snuffed out the fire, letting just a few glowing embers linger so he wasn’t totally blind in the dark, and crouched in the shadow of a bush. 

Someone was approaching. In the strangely still night, Yuri could hear footsteps from beyond the campsite.  _ Otabek? _ He pleaded,  _ Is that you? _

An illuminated blue bulb appeared, the flame of a torch, getting closer and closer. Otabek’s torch had been orange - had the fire gotten hotter with more kindling?

Whoever it was had a dark cloak and a covered face, just like…

Just like the stranger from the caravan.

_ Fuck _ , Yuri swore internally,  _ god fucking dammit. _

That meant the cry of pain had been Otabek, who was lying dead or bleeding in the dirt, and that a man who wanted to sell him _just like the bandits_ was getting closer, closer. Yuri’s breath grew shallow and panicked, and his hands trembled, clammy and clenched around the dagger’s handle. He couldn’t light the fire, he couldn’t run and hide in the forest when the only person with a light was the one who wanted to hurt him. 

He crouched, waiting. Maybe if he could stay out of sight until the stranger got close enough, he could take him down with one swipe of the knife. Yuri had never killed anyone before - his grandfather had even made him stay in as he slaughtered the cows and pigs before the winter, though that had because he was afraid one of the huge animals would crush his tiny Yuri underfoot.

_ I want to eat cured pork with my Grandpa _ , Yuri thought, wondering why he was remembering this now of all times.  _ Focus,  _ he reminded himself,  _ focus _ . 

The cloaked figure came into view. He was sure-footed and fast, stepping over the carefully placed traps. He set off an alarm, which sent a pile of clattering stones crashing down, but by his expression, he was thinking the same thing Yuri was: it didn’t matter, no one was around to hear. 

Yuri swallowed. 

The man from the caravan stepped into their tiny campsite, blue light reflecting off hard black eyes.  _ A fairy torch _ , Yuri realized, made by an actual woodland fairy, not one raised by humans like him. An eternally burning flame that disappeared with the first light of morning, only to appear again as the sun set. He shuddered, nauseous, cupping his hands over his mouth as he thought of how this  _ slaver _ could have gotten something like that. 

The dark cloak swished around, whispering like the wind. He was trying to be quiet, to creep up, though the light cast an eerie glow all around the campsite. Otabek’s horse whinnied, uncomfortable. Finally, the stranger passed the spot where Yuri hid, trembling. 

_ I could let him pass,  _ Yuri thought,  _ I could just hide here and hope he goes away _ . 

As long as the slaver still had the glowing blue light, though, Yuri would always be in danger of being caught, he realized. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and launched himself at the cloaked figure. 

The blue fairy light flew out of his hands, and both he and Yuri were plunged into darkness. Yuri stabbed wildly at the black mass below him and heard the sharp sound of a knife slicing through fabric. He swore, loudly - he’d been off the mark. 

The man below him bucked wildly and Yuri lost his balance. He fell sideways and lashed out with his knee, hitting something soft and solid. He grinned at the satisfying grunt of pain and scrambled forward, reaching desperately for the torch.

Darkness covered him, blackness as the stranger tossed his cloak over Yuri, followed by the searing weight of someone pressing him down. Yuri swore again, the stranger’s knee pressed into his back, and slashed out with the dagger. Blue light filtered through the gash in the cloak, and Yuri tried to shake off the oppressive weight on his back. 

“ _ Otabek _ ,” he shouted out, no longer worried about being heard, “ _ Get off me, Otabek, help!” _

With a scream of rage he pushed himself up from the ground, ripping and tearing at the cloak covering him, and felt the stranger’s balance falter. Still mostly covered by the cloak, he grabbed the stranger and pulled him down, knife forgotten, acting on pure animal instinct. The two grappled, rolling around the campsite, both desperate for dominance. 

Despite the pure adrenaline coursing through him, Yuri was smaller, still weak from weeks of captivity, and he was left dazed as the stranger slammed the back of his head into the hard ground. He let out one more desperate cry for help, and punishing, powerful hands wrapped around his throat and  _ squeezed _ , cutting all sound off. Yuri’s claws left white lines in thick leather gloves as he tried to ease the pressure on his throat, tried to push the stranger off. 

_ He won’t kill me _ , Yuri thought, eyes going black around the edges as he gasped for sips of air and he couldn’t keep clawing at the hands around his throat.  _ He won’t kill me, no, he’ll do worse- _

What little air left was knocked out of him as the stranger landed a swift kick to his stomach. Yuri collapsed, even as the stranger stopped strangling him, gagging as he desperately tried to inhale. He clawed lines into his throat, trying to open up his airway.

The stranger gripped him by the hair and dragged him forward, picking up the torch. 

“You’re mine now, you goddamn brat,” the stranger spit at him, face gaunt and ghostlike in the glowing light. He pulled out a knife from his pocket and raised it, snarling, “You’re gonna remember this.”

Something whistled through the air and landed with a heavy  _ thud _ in the stranger’s arm.

_ An arrow? _

The man in the cloak howled and dropped both Yuri and the blue light. Like an injured beast, he growled and hissed, reaching forward again.

Another arrow whistled through the air and landed dully in the dirt, not an inch from the stranger’s hand. 

He glared at Yuri, hatred burning in his eyes brighter than the torch, and stumbled clumsily back into the woods.

Yuri lay on the ground, gasping for breath, pleading inwardly that Otabek was okay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The forest is full of cruel men, Yuri found himself thinking, and no one knows what they do in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks like there's a problem with the word processor I use that adds random spaces after italicized words. I try to catch all of them, but please let me know if I miss any!

Someone was coming, their footsteps deafening.

The stranger’s eyes flashed with hate and embedded themselves in Yuri’s consciousness. He was chilled to the bone, terrified, not sure what to do.

Yuri scrambled forward towards the campfire, cupping it until it glowed and flooded the campsite with a warm orange light. He was too weak to fight much longer, still gasping for breath on his knees, and he begged silently that the arrows came from someone friendly. Maybe Otabek had procured a bow from the middle of the forest. _Where was Otabek_?

Two figures appeared from the darkness of the woods. They were dressed in plain clothes, but both had glinting silver bands with curling, engraved golden dragons on their fingers. Royal knights. Yuri shuddered and gulped, still tensed - it was one of the highest crimes in the land to impersonate a knight, but that didn’t stop it from happening on occasion, and with their luck…  

“Wooow, Yuuri,” One of them trilled, “That was so _cool_. You hit him, in the dark, from meters away! Even I couldn’t do that!”

_Wait,_ Yuri thought, _another Yuri?_

“Thank you, Victor,” the knight named Yuuri mumbled, seeming embarrassed. “I’m sure you could, though…”

They stepped into the clearing, and both of them seemed to notice Yuri at the same time, crouched beside the fire.

“Hi there,” one of them said, kindly. Yuri guessed it was Yuuri, from the voice. “Are you doing okay? We heard shouting…”

Yuuri reached out a ring-clad hand, and Yuri swatted it away on instinct. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.

_It had been a stupid question anyway_ , Yuri sniffed, still shaking. Yuuri smiled sadly and crouched to knee level, which made Yuri bristle. _Don’t patronize me,_ he thought.

“Are you alone?” Yuuri tried again.

Yuri shook his head, no. He pointed to the woods, and managed to force out simply, “Otabek.”

Yuuri nodded at the other man, Victor, who wandered off in the direction Yuri had been pointing.

It was hard for Yuri to trust either of them, though they seemed like good enough people. Yuuri had warm, kind brown eyes and a kind of nervous disposition. He kept looking around like he expected something to be behind him, but he still managed a soothing smile in Yuri’s direction.

He hadn’t had much time to size up Victor, but he was incredibly handsome, and had a kind of confident swagger that Yuri _hated_. It reminded him of his least favorite guard from home.

Yuuri attempted to make conversation a few more times, and Yuri gave clipped, one word answers. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, two familiar figures wandered into the radius of firelight.

Otabek was walking, slightly off balance, and gripping a gash in his head to stem the bleeding. Yuri scrambled up, ran over to him, and almost tackled him as he leapt up and wrapped his arms around Otabek’s neck.

“He was totally lost!” Victor proclaimed, grinning even though both Yuri and Otabek shot him a glare. “I found him wandering, injured, not too far from here.”

“I was walking towards the fire,” Otabek grumbled, Yuri still wrapped around him. He looked down, his normally stoic expression riddled with guilt. “He hit me on the head, then ran off. Everything was dark. I’m sorry, Yuri, I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“I’m fine,” Yuri assured him, somehow annoyed at Otabek’s apology. He wasn’t helpless.

“What are you two doing so deep in the woods, alone?” Victor asked them, “And clearly not in peak fighting condition.”

“Why you-” Yuri snapped.

“I’m helping him home,” Otabek cut him off, before Yuri could finish the thought. Yuri huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a glance.

“If you like,” Yuuri offered, “We can lead you from here. We’re more equipped to deal with this kind of thing.”

“Otabek’s doing a fine fucking job,” Yuri spat, “You gaudy fuckers didn’t sneak me away from a whole wagonful of bandits, you were too busy shoving your fancy silver rings up your own ass to actually help anyone, but you still want all the credit.”

Yuuri winced, visibly, and Victor’s expression soured.

Otabek jumped in. “What are you two doing alone, so deep in the woods?” He asked, to change the subject.

“Bandits,” Yuuri explained. “They’re sending out extra patrols. People have been spotting them as close as the first river crossing by the castle walls.”

Otabek blinked. “Are two knights going to be enough to take on a big group of bandits?” he asked, tentatively.

“No,” Victor said, flatly, “And they shouldn’t have sent _us_ out in the first place.”

“Victor,” Yuuri warned.

“Goddamn bureaucrats, no respect for the men on the ground…”

“Please, Victor,” Yuuri pleaded, “Leave it.”

Victor huffed, then stalked around to wrap himself around Yuuri, smirk back on his face. “At least I got to see my little piggy fight someone,” he crooned, kissing Yuuri on the cheek.

“Gross,” Yuri gagged.

“At least let us walk with you going forward,” Victor offered. “We’ll be safer together.”

Otabek looked at Yuri, who shrugged, nervous. They were both still shaken from the attack, and any opportunity to be safer, more protected was better, and yet…

“How can we be sure you’re both knights?” Otabek asked. He knew the answer, Yuri realized, this was just to check. Just to make sure they were truly who they claimed.

Victor winked and fluttered his ring-clad fingers. “Because of _these_ ,” he smirked.

“Also because of your arrogant, nasty-ass attitude,” Yuri snapped. He crossed his hands over his chest as Victor glared.

“It… Wouldn’t hurt to have a bigger group,” Yuuri offered, tentatively. “Especially if there are more people like _him_ lurking around.” He nodded pointedly towards the woods.

Yuri and Otabek exchanged a glance, and Yuri threw up his hands in defeat. Truth be told, he was nervous after the attack, though he wouldn’t dare say it. If they had less of a chance of being attacked, he’d take it. And really, what could they do but trust them? Just like the night in the cave, hopelessness clawed at Yuri.

“Alright, you can come with us,” Otabek agreed. “Yuuri - what happened to the man who attacked us?”

Yuuri frowned. “He stumbled off into the woods. I doubt he got far - I shot him in the arm. Do you want us to go clear the area?”

“No,” Otabek shook his head, “I’ll do it.”

“Otabek,” Yuri warned, “Your head…”

“It’s fine,” Otabek said, grabbing his sword, the intensity in his voice leaving no room for argument. “I’ll be okay.” His hands shook, white with anger, and he grabbed a torch before disappearing back into the dark.

“In that case,” Yuuri said, nervous as he gripped his bow, “I’ll go get our things. They’re not too far.”

“Let me,” Victor implored, still wrapped around Yuuri, “You can stay here, where it’s safe.”

“I can do it,” Yuuri insisted, shaking himself free of Victor’s grip. “Victor, it’s so close.”

“But I know you’re still-”

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuuri snapped, “I’m _fine_.”

Yuri winced and backed away to hide in his and Otabek’s tent. Oh good, he thought, a lovers' spat. 

The knight’s voices carried through the thick tarp. Victor was quiet, pleading. “You don’t have anything to prove to me.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked, sharply. Then, Yuri heard him sigh and laugh, softly. “ _You_ don’t need to protect me.”

“Yuuri…”

“ _Victor._ ”

“Okay, okay. Just be safe, alright?”

“Alright.”

Yuri heard the sound of kissing from outside the tent and groaned, flopping to the ground in distress.

Once it was safe, he peeked his head outside the tent, and observed Victor poking at the fire with interest.

“It’s so warm,” Victor exclaimed. “We’ve been having such a hard time with our fires, because of all the rain.”

Yuri shrugged and sat beside the flames, trying to ignore the chill running up his spine.

_What if Otabek never came back?_

“How’d you get so far into the forest?” Victor asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I told you,” Yuri said, annoyed, “Bandits. I wandered too deep into the woods and got caught.”

“Ahh,” sighed Victor, dreamily, “And then your knight in tarnished armor, Otabek, leapt out from the trees and saved you?”

“After a couple of weeks, yeah,” Yuri said, flatly.

Victor started, then sat back, suddenly somber. “Ah,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Yuri.”

Yuri shrugged, again, swallowing down his sadness and anger.

“Listen…” Victor explained, “Yuuri, he - ah, right, I should let him tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Yuri cocked his head to the side.

At that moment, Yuuri reappeared in the forest, leading two heavily equipped horses, which he tied up next to Otabek’s. Victor didn’t explain what he’d meant, he simply stood and helped Yuuri set up their own tent, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek.

Worry kept Yuri from sleeping until Otabek returned. Finally, the crunching of leaves alerted them all to his return, and he stepped into the campsite, breathing heavy. The gash on his head wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the area around it was stained and clotted. Victor grabbed a cloth and dabbed at the area, cleaning the cut.

“He’s gone,” Otabek said, darkly, then turned to Yuri. “I chased him off. He’s not coming back.”

Yuuri and Victor exchanged a glance, but Yuri had eyes only for Otabek. He slid his vision from the blood-red cut, to markings on his neck, to two bright red splotches on his shirt. Otabek gripped the sword in his hand, and a dark, rust-colored stain was crusted at the top of it, where a cleaning cloth had failed to reach.

“You didn’t chase him off,” Yuri whispered, voice trembling slightly.

Otabek looked at him, then closed his eyes and let his sword fall to the dirt. His hands were shaking. “No,” he admitted, “I didn’t.”

The campsite was cold. No one seemed to know what to say.

_The forest is full of cruel men,_ Yuri found himself thinking, _and no one knows what they do in the dark._ He was strangely calm. Was killing a slaver really the cruelest thing a man could do? 

“We should set up a watch,” Otabek said, all emotion drained from his voice. “Now that there are three of us who can. I’ll go first.”

At that, everyone retreated back to their respective tents. Yuri lay awake for a long time, thinking, still too nervous to sleep after the events of the evening. He managed to doze off, briefly, before the rustling of a tent woke him with a start. Victor peeked out and tapped Otabek to alert him to a change in the watch.

Yuri couldn’t see anyone’s expressions, or hear their voices, but he felt a twinge of regret when Otabek curled up outside the tent instead of coming inside to sleep beside him.

He reached out and touched Otabek’s leg, pulling his hand away when Otabek snapped up with a gasp. The low, glowing embers still illuminated Otabek’s features, the nervousness etched into his forehead, and Yuri drew his hand back. Then, he reached forward, and grabbed the collar of Otabek’s shirt and pulled him forward until their noses were almost touching, until Yuri couldn’t see anything beyond the shine of Otabek’s black eyes.

“We let him go once,” he whispered feverishly, “He would have just kept coming back to hurt us. He almost killed you.”

Otabek nodded, struck dumb at Yuri’s intensity. Yuri let him go, and Otabek rubbed the back of his neck, tentative.

“Come inside,” Yuri offered, blushing, “Don’t sleep out here. Just please change your shirt.”

Otabek did as he was told, and Yuri’s eyes flickered to his muscles, bronze and gleaming, for just a moment. It made him blush, but also made his stomach churn slightly. He flopped down and tried not to think of Otabek’s skin, tried not to think of his own body, slender and weak. In dreams, he was formless, unsellable.

Yuri gripped Otabek's warm, calloused hands. Otabek reached out to touch his temples, brushed a strand of hair from in front of his face. His eyes shone, desperate, but his fingers were gentle and soft.

His thumb caressed Yuri's cheek.

_The forest is full of cruel men,_ Yuri thought,  _but you are not one of them_.

Warmth radiated from Otabek, and his breathing was hot in the cramped space of the tent.

_What kind of land do we live in, where just outside the castle walls, the choice becomes submit to torture or kill to survive?_

Yuri tried to sleep, tried not to think. It was easier that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about adding a tag "Otabek straight up murders a guy" but didn't want to spoil anything. This was kind of a bridge chapter, but we'll get to more meaty stuff soon. Also maybe some more upsetting stuff, just to warn you. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me! Next update Sunday!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek nodded, sympathetic and a little guilty. “Ah, I understand,” he said, “Feel free to travel with us. Was it…?”
> 
> “Bandits,” Yuuri confirmed.
> 
> The word caused something inside Yuri to snap. His mind went into overdrive.
> 
> In the camp, listless and waiting, he didn’t have anything to distract him from what had happened, and black, tar-like anger bubbled up from deep inside him. Otabek, he thought, say something, change the subject before I-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty nervous about this chapter, I re-wrote it a bunch of times, but let me know if anything feels off or doesn't work!! It's pretty intense & I don't want to misrepresent such a serious issue. You might've noticed (lol typos), but I'm completely un-beta'd, so I'm mostly going off of my own judgement.

Yuri wished he’d had more time just to talk with Otabek on the trail. He wished that they’d picked up  _ any other guards in the world _ besides the world’s most sickening couple. 

“We keep all of our things on one of our horses,” Victor was explaining to a bemused Otabek, “So we can ride together.” He and Yuuri were on the same horse, Victor behind Yuuri, bodies pressed together and Victor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri’s stomach. “So if you need a break from walking, that’s fine, but be careful~! I might get jealous.” 

Yuri gagged. 

He supposed he couldn’t hate them too much, though. They’d shared soft, fresh bread with them, and for the first time since leaving the caravan, Yuri’s jaw didn’t ache from chewing stale bread and tough cured meat. 

Something weighed on Yuri, even as they picked up and crept ever closer to his home. That was the second time he’d needed someone to save him in almost so many days. What good was having weapons and abilities if he couldn’t defend himself in an actual fight? 

Otabek pulled out a map and showed it to Yuri before Yuri mounted his horse. He frowned as he noticed Yuri’s neck, and he pushed away a curtain of blonde hair to examine his injuries. For the first time, Yuri found himself annoyed at that. His throat hurt from the ugly, hand-shaped bruises, and the red lines where he’d tried to claw his neck open so he could breathe again. 

“Do you want me to put medicine-” Otabek began, reaching to touch his neck, but Yuri flinched away as his hand got too close. 

“No,” he said, not looking Otabek in the eye, “I’ll be fine.” 

He calmed down slightly as they day wore on. In some ways, having new travel companions helped distract him from his own stresses and traumas. He now knew more about Victor and Yuuri than he’d ever wanted to. 

About Victor, the heartthrob bachelor who soared through the ranks in the King’s Guard, who, some said, had even once protected the king himself - until he travelled to a village near the edge of the castle walls and found a simple village knight, shooting a deer from half a mile away. 

About Yuuri, who had idolized Victor of the Royal Guard, and had never dreamed that one day his knight in shining armor (so to speak) would appear and take him under his wing, and into his heart.

That was Victor’s exact phrasing, which caused resounding shouts of disgust and an embarrassed-but-pleased “Victor!” from Yuuri. 

“If you’re so great,” Yuri snarked, “Why was Yuuri the one who saved me from that creep?”

“Because,” Victor said, offended, “He’s  _ much _ better at long-range than I am. I’m great at everything, but in this one area, he has me soundly beat.” 

Victor was riding with Otabek behind him, and Yuuri walked beside them, leading the supply horse. As Victor praised Yuuri, he leaned down to kiss him on the top of the head, nearly knocking Otabek off the horse in the process. 

“I loved him so much,” Victor proclaimed, dramatically, “That I decided we needed to be married!” He tugged at a chain around his neck and pulled out a shining gold band. “One day, I will be able to rid myself of this ugly dragon ring on my finger and finally become Mr. Victor Katsuki. Or, Yuuri will become Mr. Yuuri Nikiforov, or-”

“Maybe don’t brag about our wedding until we finally pick a date,” Yuuri huffed. 

“Will you give me your old ring, if you hate it so much?” Otabek asked, “I could use it to buy more parchment.”

Yuri snorted at Otabek’s attempt at a joke. He laughed even louder at the sour expression that clouded Victor’s face.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Yuuri commented, casually, trying to change the subject before an argument broke out, “But Yuri, aren’t you a fairy? Your hands…” 

Yuri stiffened. “You got something to say about it?” 

Yuuri scrambled to respond, “Oh, no no! I just… I’ve never met one before, and I wanted to know-”

“Know what, weirdo?” Yuri snarled.

“Do you have any special powers? I’ve heard that fairy dust can-”

“Fairy dust isn’t real,” Yuri shouted, face flushing, “And if I had any powers, do you think I’d be hanging around with you freaks?” 

“Wow,” Victor commented, “So grumpy!”

There was something pained about Yuri’s expression, Otabek noticed, and Yuri stared down at his hands in anger. He wondered if he should ask, but the topic changed quickly, and the moment was lost. 

“I can walk,” Yuri offered, as Victor began another story about his and Yuuri’s glorious romance, this one about the time that they took out an entire band of mercenaries by the sheer power of their love, and Otabek looked ready to snap.

“You don’t have to,” Otabek assured him. 

Yuri frowned and didn’t respond.  _ He could walk _ . 

A bit before sunset, they arrived at a river. Otabek recognized it - normally, it would be fine to cross on horseback, but heavy rains had swelled the stream. 

“Ah, right,” Yuuri explained, “There’s a ferry that’ll take us across, but it only comes a few times a day. We probably missed the last one.” 

They set up camp early that night, and Yuri took the much needed opportunity to clean himself in the cold water. He’d taken care to wash himself in the morning and evening on the road with oils and a little water, but this was the first chance he had to really  _ bathe _ . He fluttered his wings in the cold water, giggling as they splashed behind him. 

It was refreshing for his wings to be free, after being confined under a shirt for so long. As he dried himself and dressed, he passed Otabek, who was on his way to bathe as well. A thought occurred to him - if he could just make a few slits in Otabek’s old shirt…  

“Hey,” Yuri called, “Can I borrow your knife?”

“If you don’t mind waiting,” Otabek offered, “I can do whatever it is for you.”

Yuri’s good mood soured immediately. “Nevermind,” he snapped.  _ I’m not a fucking damsel _ , he thought, furious at his own weakness. 

Victor was sitting on Yuuri’s lap, and Yuri glowered as he plopped down next to the fire. Even the flames seemed to be mocking him. 

“Aren’t you two going to bathe?” Otabek asked as he returned, rubbing his hair with a cloth to dry it. 

A shadow of something crossed over Yuuri’s face. “No,” he said, “I washed with herbal water this morning.” 

Victor nodded. 

Otabek shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

The fire was weakening. Yuri wondered if he could, if maybe - 

A flash of a memory, the sting of a hickory branch on his back, and Yuri gasped and brought his palms back to his chest. 

Otabek glanced at him.  _ Don’t say anything _ , Yuri pleaded silently,  _ Don’t make me feel any worse _ . 

Luckily, Otabek kept his mouth shut. Instead, he turned to the happy couple, and asked, “Were you planning on travelling with us the whole way back? Or just until the next intersection with the main road?” 

“I was thinking the whole way back,” Victor responded, cheerily. Yuuri nodded. 

“Are we really that important?” Otabek raised an eyebrow. Yuri smirked, slightly - an entire day of romance had apparently been too much for Otabek, as well. He didn’t quite want the two knights to go, but good lord, if they hadn’t been insufferable. Well, mostly Victor, but Yuuri was guilty by association.

“Safety in numbers,” Victor explained, raising his pointer finger pointedly. 

“Why are you two so determined to come with us?” Otabek asked, finally, exasperated. “I understand to the next intersection, but why all the way?”

Victor looked ready to retort something nasty, but Yuuri sighed and responded, cheeks pink with his embarrassment, “It’s my fault.” 

“ _ No _ ,” Victor countered, “Yuuri, we’ve talked about this.”

Yuuri ignored him. “On our last patrol, I… I was attacked. I was out of work for half a year because of it.” He clenched his fists, pressed them against his thighs. “If it’s just me and Victor, we’re more vulnerable, and… It makes me nervous, because I’m not at my best.” He bowed his head forward slightly. “I’m sorry.” 

Yuri winced, already on edge. His hands shook, slightly - there had been something in Yuuri’s tone and how he described it. The way his voice cracked at the word  _ attacked _ . Maybe Yuri was just imagining it, hypersensitive to such things, but he didn’t want to think about anything like what happened to him.

Otabek nodded, sympathetic and a little guilty. “Ah, I understand,” he said, “Feel free to travel with us. Was it…?”

“Bandits,” Yuuri confirmed.

The word caused something inside Yuri to snap. His mind went into overdrive. 

In the camp, listless and waiting, he didn’t have anything to distract him from what had happened, and black, tar-like anger bubbled up from deep inside him.  _ Otabek,  _ he thought,  _ say something, change the subject before I- _

“But…” Yuri spluttered, shocked. “But, you’re a knight. What… What the hell was your training for, then?” 

It felt like he’d been dunked in a freezing river. Who let bandits roam around, attacking whoever they wanted? Why hadn’t anyone  _ done something _ about it? Why was even a knight, a royal, castle knight unable to fight them off? If he couldn’t, Yuri had never stood a chance - would never stand a chance. It  _ hurt _ .

“I, uh,” Yuuri stuttered, nervous, “I was caught by surprise. Without my weapons.” 

Yuri registered that Victor was glaring at him and that Otabek was shooting him warning glances, but his mouth was working faster than his brain could process what he was saying. He remembered sitting in the wagon, smugly even behind the gag in his mouth, waiting for the right moment to strike, unaware of what they were going to do to him.  _ So you think I’m weak? That I can’t defend myself? _

_ The rope sizzling off, flames at his fingertips, until they grabbed him and a well-placed kick made them flicker out. He remembered the way realization dawned on them, as their ugly faces changed, as they picked up a branch and whipped it across his back -  _

He stood, pointing a clawed finger at Yuuri. “So?  _ So? _ You… This isn’t supposed to happen to you. You’re supposed to be able to defend yourself, not… Not just lie there and take it because you  _ fucked up _ and you’re too pathetic to fix it.”

Victor leapt to his feet, and Yuuri stared at him in wide-eyed shock. “I…” he tried, his voice stuck in his throat.

“You’re  _ useless _ , and weak, and you’ll never be able to stop them from h-hurting you…” Yuri choked, grasping at his bruised throat as the words stuck in it and gagged him. He looked down and saw the horror on Yuuri’s face-

_ Once, he had felled a rotting tree, reduced it to ash because of the pure fire power in his hands. If he focused, if he could juggle balls of fire, could make even a wet campfire roar again, could burn away anyone who tried to hurt him or his grandpa. _

_ In the wagon, he was weak. He was trembling. His hands  _ didn’t work. 

Yuuri stood and stalked off into the woods. Victor ran after him. 

Otabek took a few steps forward, back to Yuri, halting at the look on Victor’s face. His shoulders were shaking.

_ Don’t leave me,  _ Yuri pleaded, silently, and then the gravity of what he’d said hit him like a cannonball. He raised his palms to his cheeks and clawed bright red lines into the soft skin, as if pain could make the guilt seep out of him. 

Otabek whirled around, shouting, “Yuri, what the hell was-”

Yuri scrambled away like he’d been hit. Like he expected to be hit. He let out a sob, sinking to his knees.

Otabek stared, swallowing down his anger, and a soft glow from Yuri took his breath away.

Yuri was crying. His clawed palms were raised to the sky, and wisps, tendrils of smoke curled from them and up to the sky. “I…” He whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I was supposed to be strong.” 

“What’s…” Otabek’s eyes widened in amazement as soft, glowing flames flickered from the tips of Yuri’s fingers. 

“I got so mad,” Yuri said, eyes glazing over, voice cracking at the edges, “At how you all treat me like I’m helpless, but you’re right, I couldn’t… Couldn’t…” He let out a sob and sunk to his knees, palms still raised and smoking. “I couldn’t fight any of them off. And t-they…” 

“Yuri,” Otabek said, sinking to one knee, “Yuri, look at me, come back.” 

“I didn’t have my knife, it was just a walk in the woods, but I… Fuck, I burned  _ fields,  _ whole dead fields of grass, half a mile wide, to prepare them for the planting season. Everyone told me they could count on me if any trouble came by, but then I was in trouble and I  _ couldn’t _ …” Yuri sobbed, whole body convulsing with the force of it. “Couldn’t even save myself.”

_ They hit him with the branch, and the flames flickered out in his shock. Okay, he thought, swallowing thickly around the cloth gag in his mouth, okay, focus. He tried again, they hit him again. Nothing, nothing but wisps of smoke. Someone laughed and he swiped out with his sharp, clawed hands, catching one of them and toppling him over. There was blood underneath his nails and on the wagon floor from a seeping, jagged cut, and he grinned even in his fear. _

_ He saw an opening out and ran for it, but a clammy hand clamped down on his ankles and he stumbled forward. He growled and his hands started to glow with fire again, scorching the floor of the wagon as he clawed his way towards the opening. _

_ Someone yanked him back, jerking his pants down just slightly below his waist in the process, and a cold, awful fear shot through Yuri - the fire disappeared, like it had never been there. His heart pounded in his chest at the awful, ugly silence that followed, and he tried to claw his way forward again.  _

_ “Does the fire stop when you’re scared?” one of the bandits laughed, flipping him onto his back, hands on his waistband, “Go ahead, prove it doesn’t.” _

_ He tried to make the flames, to claw at them, desperate in a way he’d never been before, but the pounding in his heart was too loud, and his breathing came in short, shallow gasps. Another bandit pressed his arms above his head and pounded at the sharp points of his clawed hands  with a hammer until they were cracked, and dull, and bleeding. Yuri screamed behind the gag in his mouth, tears in his eyes, and his clothes were off and someone was on top of him and he couldn’t do anything but lie there and- _

Otabek’s eyes had been transfixed by the in and out flickering flames, and he yelped in shock as Yuri’s smoking hands grabbed him and pulled him close, a parody of their interaction the night after the attack. 

“They’d beat me, they’d…  _ g-god _ , they’d… They’d rape me,” Yuri’s voice was feverish, this time in a desperate, terrified way, “Every day, one or the other or both. Soon, every time I made the flames I thought of what they’d do to me, and suddenly I couldn’t make them anymore. I…” His eyes filled with tears, and he slumped forward, “I was  _ helpless _ . I  _ am _ helpless. Even now I can barely make the fire glow brighter because every time I do  _ this _ -”

Otabek smelled smouldering, and smoke rose from the edges of his collar as Yuri let out another ugly sob, “I hear them, I  _ feel _ them, I… I’m useless, and weak, and I’ll never be able to stop them from hurting me, or you, or…” He collapsed into awful, aching sobs that made his whole body shake with the force of them. 

Otabek rubbed soothing circles into Yuri’s back, voice failing him when he needed it most. What could he say, though? What comfort could he give? He’d suspected, but to hear the pain in Yuri’s voice as he described it… 

“You’re not weak,” Otabek whispered to him, “They hurt you, but you’re not weak-”

Yuri clung to him, and Otabek decided that as long as Yuri didn’t push him away, he’d wrap him in his arms and never let go. After a while, Yuri tired himself out, and his loud, wracking sobs slowed to whimpers. 

Finally, he spoke again, voice thick from crying. “I shouldn’t have said that to him,” he whispered.

“You were upset, his story upset you,” Otabek said, softly. A shudder ran through Yuri, and Otabek slipped his coat over him, hoping it would warm him.

Yuri let out another sob and nodded, curling into himself by the fire. 

Victor and Yuuri didn’t return, not for a while. The sun sunk beneath the horizon, and Yuri left to curl up in the tent, head pounding painfully from crying. 

Finally, Yuuri and Victor returned to the campsite, holding the eerie blue light the stranger had brought. Yuuri’s eyes were red-rimmed, and Victor looked furious. Otabek winced - he could try to explain, but would that compromise Yuri’s trust? Would Yuuri and Victor want to confront Yuri? What was he supposed to  _ do? _

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” Victor said, flatly. “We’re going home. This fucking patrol has given us nothing but grief.”

“Wait,” Otabek tried to explain, “He, it’s-”

  
“Leave it,” Victor snapped, raising a hand. “I’m going to go on watch first. Go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure why I decided to be all ~secretive~ about Yuri having magic powers, but hopefully that wasn't too weird haha. And hopefully the way I described it made sense. I did try to add in a few lines here and there from ch1 alluding to it, so it wasn't suuuuuper out of nowhere. 
> 
> As always, leave any comments or constructive criticism you may have below!


	6. Chapter 6

In the middle of the night, Yuri jerked awake from a dream he couldn’t remember, and the soft murmur of voices from outside the tent drew his attention. Otabek was sleeping soundly beside him, so the two figures outside must’ve been Victor and Yuuri. 

Guilt gnawed at Yuri, especially as snippets of their conversation floated through the night air. 

“It’s my turn to watch, Victor.”

“You… It’s okay, you can take tonight off.” 

“I’m alright. I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, Yuuri.” Victor sounded desperate, as helpless as Otabek had.

“Don’t worry about me, Victor. Please.” 

“Yuuri, I… I’m sorry, I’m _ sorry, _ I wish I could help you.” 

“I wish you could, too. Victor… Just, stay with me through this. Don’t ever leave me.”

What sounded like a sob, and silhouetted against the firelight, Yuri saw Victor pull Yuuri into a hug. The two of them parted, and Yuuri settled into a long night on watch, shoulders shaking violently. 

Yuri winced. Then, careful not to disturb Otabek, he slipped out of the tent and tiptoed over to where Yuuri was sitting by the fire.

“Can-” Yuri began, and Yuuri whirled around, hand on the dagger handle on his hip. Yuri put his hands up in front of him. “Can I sit down?”

Yuuri eyed him warily, but he didn’t tell him to go away, so Yuri sat.

The two sat in silence for a moment, Yuri struggling to find the right way to begin.  _ I’m sorry _ seemed to get stuck in his throat, so he tried something different. “What I said, I… I shouldn’t have said it. You didn’t deserve it.”

The simplest thing to do would be to explain, to say,  _ I was yelling at you what my mind has been yelling at me the past few days. I’m sorry, I was taking my anger at my own helplessness out on you _ . Yuri knew that’s what he’d been doing, and yet, he couldn’t get the words out.

Yuuri nodded, still tensed, nervous around Yuri. Yuri imagined how he would feel if someone said that to him - he’d have burst into tears right there, probably tried to tear himself to bits at the agony of it. A few tears trickled out of the corners of his eyes and his cheeks stung.

“You didn’t deserve it. You were caught off guard, you didn’t have your weapons. You weren’t… Like me.” 

Yuuri blinked in confusion. “Yuri,” he murmured, “What do you…?”

“I can make fire. With my hands, it’s, uh, I guess it’s a fairy thing?” Yuri shook his head, “I don’t actually know. But I can’t when I’m unfocused, and being afraid makes me unfocused. So, when I was captured, they kept trying to make me afraid, and after a while, I’d get afraid every time I made the fire, no matter whether or not they did something to me. I… I had a weapon. I couldn’t use it right. It wasn’t like you.” 

“What do you mean, ‘make you afraid?’” Yuuri asked, confused. 

Yuri took a deep breath, staring blankly into the fire. “They’d… hurt me. Beat me. Ra-” 

It had slipped out of him before, in front of Otabek, in a frenzied stream of terror, but here the word stuck inside of him, threatening to choke him, and he gagged on it, lurching forward and covering his hands with his mouth. 

“I understand,” Yuuri said quickly. “I… Understand. I’m… I’m the same.” 

“You’re not, though, they made it so you couldn’t fight back-”

“That sounds like what they did to you, Yuri,” Yuuri pointed out. “You were powerful, and they took that away from you. Scared it out of you.” 

Yuri opened his mouth, then closed it again and blinked. He hadn’t thought of it like that. 

“People like that,” Yuuri continued, eyes flint-hard, reflecting the flames, “Don’t go for a fair fight. Victor said there was a reason they didn’t come for me when I was on my horse, holding my bow in my hand.” 

Yuri nodded. That… Made sense. “I’ve never, even before it happened to me, I’d never met someone who’d been,” he closed his eyes and swallowed around the lump of what he couldn’t say, “who’d been hurt like this. I don’t know what to do, or why it made me say those things to you.”

“I don’t know either,” Yuuri admitted, then he sighed and poked at the dulling embers with a stick to fan the fire. “For me, it wasn’t like that. Everything was like fog, holding my tongue so I couldn’t speak, wrapping around me so I couldn’t feel Victor holding me.”

“How did you get better?”

His voice was strained as he spoke, and Yuuri’s brown eyes shone, pained. “I… I didn’t. I still can’t bathe in rivers on patrol, because that’s what I was doing when they attacked me. Victor tells me I’m doing better, but I’ve hated every moment I’ve been in the woods… What would he think if I couldn’t handle it? I already couldn’t fight off three stupid bandits, and now…”

Yuuri’s words wove a story of agony and self-doubt. An already anxious disposition that had become self-destructive because of something outside of his control. Yuri realized that this might’ve been the first time Yuuri  _ could _ talk about this freely, to someone who ostensibly understood, and he could almost see the scenes Yuuri described playing before his very eyes. It hurt, and it scared him, but he couldn’t make Yuuri stop. 

_ The third straight day lying in bed in the inn, replaying the attack over and over and over again. Maybe if he’d lunged to the left to grab his knife, not the right, maybe if he hadn’t taken that one hour off of training all those weeks ago -  _

_ Why had he ever thought he could work with Victor, why did he ever believe he could be strong enough for a job like this? Now Victor knew how weak he was, and Victor would leave him, and he deserved it -  _

Yuuri was cruel to himself, a problem he’d clearly had before but just got worse with time and trauma. Yuri realized with a cold shock that he’d been so wrapped up in finding his way home that he never stopped to consider what would happen after. 

Would this never leave him, clinging like cold fog in the wintertime? He expressed his anger outwardly - what if he hurt his Grandpa? What if he scared away anyone who could love him, just like they’d scared his strength away from him? His shoulders shook and he took a shallow, ragged breath, tears beading at the corners of his eyes. 

“Yuri?” Yuuri asked, staring at him in concern. “Yuri, what’s wrong?”

“I’m…” Yuri began, but everything he’d just thought stayed buried under thick layers of mud, unreachable by his voice. He stayed silent. “But, doesn’t Victor love you? He’s going to marry you.”

Yuuri started, like he hadn’t even considered that as a possibility. “Yes… Right. Yes. He does. He will. Sorry.” He sighed, rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Sorry. I don’t get to talk about this much.” 

“Not even with Victor?” 

“Victor can be an idiot,” Yuuri scowled, “It’s not always his fault, though… He wants to help, but sometimes there isn’t anything he  _ can _ do.” 

Yuri nodded, tentatively. He felt hollow, empty - what was there that  _ he _ could do aside from sit there and wallow in their shared trauma? It ached because it echoed his own experience - the things he loved, the things people loved about him, gone in a whirlwind of self-doubt and nightmares. 

The flames crackled. Yuri lifted up his palms and let sparks of light dance at his fingertips, trying to make them reach the fire. He winced, remembering, but took a deep breath and tried to ignore the stinging of a rope around his wrists and a hand over his mouth. The sparks fizzled out and he sighed. He’d done it before, but everything felt too raw tonight. 

Yuuri was staring at his hands in amazement. “Wow,” he whispered, “That’s incredible.”

“You should’ve seen me back home,” Yuri responded, unable to hide the frustration in his tone. “Yuuri… If you weren’t here, I’d be sold off somewhere. Otabek might be dead. Don’t… Don’t leave us.”  _ You are strong, and we need you _ . 

Yuuri didn’t outright agree, but he smiled amicably. “Victor and I will talk about it.”

Movement behind them caused both Yuuri and Yuri to whirl around. Otabek blinked, sleepily, surprised to see the two of them. 

“It’s my turn to watch,” he explained.

“Ah, okay.” Yuuri stood, shakily. “Goodnight, Yuri. Thank you for listening.” 

Yuri nodded, flushing slightly. Yuuri smiled down at him before wandering back to his tent. 

“Do you want to sleep?” Otabek offered.

Yuri shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. He was still thinking, mind reeling at his and Yuuri’s conversation. 

It was cruel, what Yuuri had said that night, about himself. It was also wrong, Yuri noted - it was  _ Victor _ who raged about the injustice of sending Yuuri back on patrol, and it was Victor who put his foot down and decided they needed to go home after Yuri’s outburst. 

Was Yuri doomed to the same self-doubt?

“Do you want me to take care of that?”

Otabek’s thumb was on his cheek, at the stinging red marks. Yuri jolted, and Otabek pulled his hand back like he’d been burned.

Yuri swallowed and took a deep breath, breath, linking his fingers up with Otabek’s. “Yes,” He responded, “You can.”

It was like how he’d caressed Yuri’s cheek the night before. Soft, gentle, warm. A pleasant tingle soothed the angry red as Otabek slid the ointment against the scratch.

“We match,” Yuri said wryly, thumb stroking the fading red mark on Otabek’s face from their first night together. 

“Your claws are deadly,” Otabek said solemnly, but Yuri caught a hint of a smile in his eyes.

As Otabek pulled away again, a thought appeared to occur to him, and his fingers hovered by the bruises and claw marks on Yuri’s throat.

Otabek bit his lip. “I know you can do it yourself,” he explained, “I just want you to know you don’t have to.”

Yuri nodded, shame dancing in his eyes, and he guided Otabek’s hand to his adam’s apple. “Go ahead,” he whispered, “I like your hands on me. They’re gentle, not like...”

Otabek’s flush extended to his ears, and a flash of pain appeared in his eyes for just a momen. If Yuri had more energy, he would have snapped  _ don’t misunderstand _ at Otabek. He was tired, though, and swallowed deeply as the hurt at his neck melted away with Otabek’s ministrations.

The two sat beside the fire. Yuri rest his head on Otabek’s shoulder and watched the flames until he dozed off.

* * *

 

“It looks like we’re going in the same direction anyway,” Victor sniffed the next morning. He glanced at Yuri, who blushed and didn’t meet his gaze, “So I suppose we might as well stick with you.”

Otabek noticed a singed mark on his coat and a bandage on his hand. “Did you get burned?” he asked, curious.

“Yes,” Victor snapped, “This stupid thing,” he help up the now dull fairy light torch, “apparently it starts blazing the moment the sun sets, no matter where it is. In this case, that was in my pocket, where my hand was.” He turned to Yuri. “Do  _ you _ know how this works?”

Yuri winced and shook his head. He knew barely anything about being a fairy - he’d never even talked to another up close. They were elusive, hidden - and wondering why he’d ended up in the castle as a tentatively accepted oddity left a bit of a bad taste in his mouth. 

He only knew about his fire power because when he was a kid he kept accidentally singeing his grandpa’s beard.

They took the ferry early in the morning, eating their breakfast as the swollen river lapped at the sides of the small boat. Yuri had never taken a ferry before, but it made him queasy, the way the water rocked them. 

Because of the setbacks with the river, they didn’t reach the intersection as soon as they’d hoped, and instead needed to camp for another night in the winding back road. Yuri could tell Yuuri wasn’t happy about it, and honestly, neither was he - he wanted to be  _ home _ . 

Otabek yawned, stretching, behind him and suddenly, a thought occurred to Yuri - what would Otabek do after he got Yuri home? Go back to patrolling the woods? The thought hurt. It seemed like such a lonely life.

Yuuri took first watch. He set up by the dying light of the fire, despite more protesting by Victor, and sat in silence with his bow clutched to him. 

“I’m gonna,” Yuri murmured to a drowsy Otabek, “I’m gonna go sit with him. Just for a little.”

“Mm,” Otabek nodded, “Do what you need. Do you care if I sleep?”

“No,” Yuri shook his head, hand on Otabek’s shoulder. He ran his thumb along it, soothing. “Sleep. Good night, Otabek.” 

Yuuri still whirled around in shock when Yuri approached him, but he scooted over to let Yuri sit down. 

The fire was low, and Yuri raised his hands up, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate. Warmth emanated from his fingertips, but a chill crawled up his spine. He gasped and opened his eyes. The flames flickered a little brighter on the campfire, the warmth a little bit stronger.

Yuuri gaped at him in awe. Yuri blushed. 

“Wow,” Yuuri breathed, “Wow, that was so cool.” 

It was okay. Nothing like what he could do before. Yuri didn’t say anything. 

He’d done that a few times before, when he was cold, walking with Otabek. He wondered if Otabek had noticed the fact that his fires only went out when Yuri wanted them too, or that they burned brighter than usual for longer. 

When he was calm, when Otabek was around, it was easier to focus. What would happen when that failed, though? 

“What did you use your fire for back home?” Yuuri asked. 

Yuri shrugged, “Farming, mostly. I’d clear out dead fields and weeds so that they could plant new ones. I don’t know what I’m going to tell them when I get home - they’re counting on me for the upcoming spring.”

“Maybe you’ll get your abilities back before then,” Yuuri said, kindly. 

Yuri snorted in disbelief. “Maybe you and Victor will get married before then.”

_ Shit _ , he thought, immediately after he said it,  _ maybe that was too far _ .

Yuuri sighed, flushing, “We’re waiting until I feel more like myself. He proposed so I knew he wouldn’t run off and leave me because of what happened, but I don’t know when I’ll ‘feel like myself’ again.”

Yuri didn’t know what to say to that. He held up his hand to the fire and tried to pull it to him, to hold one of the flames in his palm. It flickered there, orange and glowing and warm. The same cold chill crept up Yuri’s spine and he gritted his teeth as the flame faded, flickered, and - 

_ It was cold, so cold in the cave. If he could get the fire going, he could finally be warm. The man who saved him could be warm.  _

The flame roared back to life in his palm. Yuri didn’t let himself smile, but a satisfied glow spread through him. 

“Yuuri,” Yuri said, suddenly, “Why don’t you practice with with me?” 

Yuuri blinked. “What?” he said, shocked. 

“Here,” Yuri offered, tossing the fireball up into the air, “Why don’t you try to hit these with your bow and arrows? I can try to toss them further, and further. We can collect the arrows all tomorrow morning.”  _ If I can do that again, _ Yuri thought.  _ It’ll help him build confidence, and it’ll help me get this ability back. _

Yuuri stood, notched an arrow to his bow, and shot it through the flame above them, which flickered out. He smiled, softly. 

“Okay,” Yuri said, “Okay.” He crouched to the fire, grit his teeth and tried to collect another ball in his palm. This one was smaller, weaker, but it glowed just the same. Yuri tossed it up, between two branches in a tall tree.

Yuuri grinned at him, notched another arrow, and shot it with a woosh directly between those two branches in the dark. The flame flickered out as it was hit, and Yuuri pumped his fist in the air.

They continued like that for an hour, two hours - Yuri couldn't tell, he lost track of time as he let the warmth of his own ability flow through him, felt the hard  _woosh_ of the arrows through the clearing.

When Otabek finally emerged for his watch, the two of them were grinning giddily, out of breath beside the fire. He blinked, bemused, at the illuminated campfire and arrows stuck in logs and tree trunks surrounding them. 

“Is… Everything okay?” Otabek questioned, hoping Yuuri hadn’t decided to use Yuri as target practice. 

“Yeah,” Yuri responded, grinning at Otabek. “We’ll pick them up tomorrow morning.” He pulled Otabek into a tight hug, his head against his chest to hear his heartbeat, before slipping back into the tent. “Thank you, Otabek, for everything.”

Yuuri stood, silent, in the middle of the clearing. His eyes were shining, a faint sheen of tears making them even glassier.

“Did Yuri say something else?” Otabek asked, tentative.

Yuuri fixed Otabek with an unreadable stare. “Nothing bad. I feel… I think I feel better than I have in a long time.”

“Victor will be happy,” Otabek offered.

Yuuri nodded, wiping at his eyes, and disappeared. 

Otabek plopped down by a glowing, blazing fire. He shrugged, confused, but he smiled - it was the happiest he’d seen Yuri since they’d started their journey.

  
The night grew long, shadows stretching like tendrils towards him, and he settled into his watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things got better!! Kind of, haha. These past few chapters have been a lot of dialogue, and so's the next, but don't worry - there's more action coming up. We still haven't met these infamous ~bandits~
> 
> I know Yuuri in canon isn't really a "talk about your feelings" kinda guy, so hopefully that isn't too off for you, I just figured it fit with the scenario.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor sighed, “No offense to you two,” he explained, “But they never should have sent us out here to begin with. I fought with them about it for weeks, but in the end, Yuuri had decided on going and I wasn’t gonna leave him.”
> 
> “If Yuuri wanted to go, why are you so upset?”
> 
> Victor scowled. “Yuuri thinks he has something to prove to everyone because of what happened. Like if he doesn’t make up for it, he’s not worthy of being a knight. Being with me.” He groaned, frustrated. “He doesn’t though, and no one thinks he does except him.”

The watch was long and dull. Otabek found that he missed the soft warmth of Yuri’s head resting on his shoulder, and he dared a peek back towards the tent. Yuri was curled up in a ball there, brow furrowed, mouth just barely open as he breathed through his dreams. A flicker of something Otabek didn’t quite understand flared up in his chest, and he gripped himself there, remembering the way Yuri had smiled as he’d slipped off to sleep. 

_ I want to see that again _ , Otabek thought, blushing.

After a little while, he heard a rustling behind him. He turned with a smile, assuming it was Yuri, and started in surprise as Victor stalked towards him. He winced, hoping Victor wasn’t here to give him an earful about Yuri. He was really trying to make up for his outburst, it seemed.

Victor plopped down next to Otabek with a huff, and stared at the fire. 

“Your shift isn’t for another few hours-” Otabek began.

“It looks like our Yuris have been having nighttime heart to hearts,” Victor cut him off, smiling at him in a way that wasn’t exactly friendly, “And I wanted to get to know you, too. If we’re going to be travelling with you  _ the whole way back _ .” 

“So,” Otabek asked, uncertainly, “You are coming with us after all?”

“That’s what Yuuri wants,” Victor grumbled, “Even if we won’t get back as fast.”

“You don’t sound happy about it,” Otabek said, warily.

Victor sighed, “No offense to you two,” he explained, “But they never should have sent us out here to begin with. I fought with them about it for weeks, but in the end, Yuuri had decided on going and I wasn’t gonna leave him.” 

“If Yuuri wanted to go, why are you so upset?”

Victor scowled. “Yuuri thinks he has something to prove to everyone because of what happened. Like if he doesn’t make up for it, he’s not worthy of being a knight. Being with me.” He groaned, frustrated. “He  _ doesn’t _ though, and no one thinks he does  _ except him _ .” 

“I… Don’t know how I can help you with this,” Otabek responded. 

“Your Yuri doesn’t do that, does he?” Victor asked, desperate. 

“He’s… Yuri’s a kid,” Otabek said. It wasn’t an answer, exactly, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He’s just… A different person than your Yuuri.” 

“ _ You’re _ a kid, as far as I’m concerned,” Victor retorted, ignoring Otabek’s mumbled  _ no, I’m eighteen _ . “I just… Okay, I’ll be honest. I know my Yuuri and yours… Okay, I’ll call him Yurio, to make things easier. Yuuri and Yurio have been talking, and I wanted to know if Yurio’s told you anything.” 

Otabek raised an eyebrow and asked, “Why aren’t you asking Yuuri this?”

“Because! Wait, Yuuri or Yurio? Those are two very different reasons.”

“Yuuri.”

Victor sighed and brought his knees up to his chest. “He won’t talk to me. I ask him, and he changes the subject. Is it me? Is he afraid I’ll think he’s weak? I  _ won’t _ , Otabek.” He hid his head in his hands. “Oh,  _ Yuuri _ .” 

Otabek remained silent, feeling he’d become an actor in a drama he’d never auditioned for. Maybe Victor just needed someone to vent to and didn’t actually want his input. It sounded like their patrol hadn’t been going well before they all met up. 

Victor looked up at him, sniffling. “What do you do to make Yurio feel better?”

Otabek blinked. So much for that. Not for the first time, his own helplessness weighed on him, and he realized he didn’t have a good answer for Victor. He’d had doubts about his ability to help Yuri, and felt frustration because he could never do  _ enough _ . Yuri’s outburst the day before had really been the only time Yuri had talked about what happened to him, and Otabek had just  _ sat there _ , useless. 

Or had he? Certainly, Yuri had seemed happier afterward, and the way he leaned against him, by the fire… 

“I don’t know,” he said, “I guess just… Stay with him? Hey, Victor, how would Yuuri feel about you telling me about this?”

Victor rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly. “Ah, haha… It’ll be our little secret, right?” he asked, winking.

Otabek frowned at him and Victor put up his hands in surrender. “I’m being an idiot, I know, and kind of a jackass. I just… Otabek, I  _ love _ Yuuri. I want to do everything I can to help him, if only he would tell me. I asked him to marry me because… Okay, because I love him and want to marry him, but in the moment I asked it was because he truly believed I wanted to leave him.” 

“What?” Otabek asked, confused and a little bit concerned. “Victor, what do you…?”

Victor sighed, serious. “It was a week after it happened. He tried to resign, so even though I didn’t think he should’ve I told him okay, it doesn’t matter if you do because we’ll still be together. And he said…  _ God _ , he said, Victor, why don’t you leave me? He was so matter of fact, too.” 

He wiped at his eyes angrily and continued, “He said, I can’t be with you anymore because I’ll never be able to touch you again, so you should give up on me now. On him, his fighting, on everything we’d been through…” his voice cracked. “So I got down on one knee and I told him that I would rather die than let him go, bandits be damned, so we should get married as soon as we got back. I don’t think he believed me until we got back and I bought him the rings.” 

Otabek frowned, wondering if Victor wanted him to say anything. 

“I think  _ I _ thought asking him to marry me, being engaged, would be enough to at least convince him that I worshipped the ground at his feet.”

Apparently not. Otabek sat silently, watching the fire. 

Victor closed his eyes, whispered, “He was so outnumbered. He was unarmed. It wasn’t his fault, but he still thinks…” He gritted his teeth and went on, “I  _ love _ him, Otabek. I love him. I would die for him. I would kill for him. I  _ have _ killed for him. When I finally found them, saw those monsters and what they were doing to him, I killed all of them. They were  _ laughing _ , Otabek. But they weren’t laughing when I split their skulls open like melons.” 

Otabek gulped at the visceral image. Even with the warmth coming from the campfire, far brighter and hotter than it was when he’d gone to sleep, a cold chill ran up his spine as the conversation changed. 

Victor turned to him, locked eyes. In the light of the fire, his steel blue gaze was cold and terrifying. “You understand what I mean, right, Otabek?” 

It took Otabek a minute to wonder what he was referring to. Then, it all came back - the forest, the black trees and black cloak, a single thrust with his sword, like a shovel into wet dirt… Otabek shuddered and broke eye contact, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“He almost got Yuri,” Otabek whispered. “He would’ve come back for him. For us.”

“So,” Victor said, “You do understand what I mean.” 

Otabek didn’t respond. He was protecting Yuri, himself… 

Victor stood, stretching, suddenly back to his normal cheery mood. “Well, I’m going back to bed. Get me when it’s my watch.”

Otabek nodded. “Was… Was this helpful for you?”

Victor smiled, “Not  _ at all _ . But you did give me one good bit of advice… I’m not going to do something like this again. I’ll try to talk to Yuuri more about this. He deserves that much, even if I can’t do anything else.” 

Otabek was alone again. He shuddered, the intensity of Victor’s last question still weighing on him. Before he’d killed the stranger that night, he remembered the anger and fear coursing through him, and now he remembered the way he felt, watching Yuri break down in front of him. It was painful, awful - and he was  _ angry _ at the people who had done that to him. 

If he had the chance, if Yuri were attacked again, he wondered if he would even hesitate before bringing down his sword on whoever was responsible. He wondered if that was an okay thing to think, for someone he cared about, and wondered if Yuri felt the same about him.

* * *

 

It had only been a few days, Yuri realized, maybe a little more than a week, but as they reached the final landmark between him and home, he realized how agonizingly long the journey had felt. It wasn’t Otabek’s fault, it wasn’t even Victor and Yuuri’s, but he ached to tell his grandpa he was alright. 

At one point, they paused for food, and the two Yuris began to practice in earnest. In the middle of the clearing, balls of flame fluttered about like fireflies then fizzled out at a well-placed shot from a slingshot zoomed through them. 

Victor stood and approached the duo, and Yuri stopped immediately, eyes up and defiant but shining with unease. 

“Can I…” Victor began, taking a slow, deep breath, “Can I join you? It’s not every day that I get to practice with a moving target.” 

Yuri nodded and tossed a low, orange-red flame up in the air.

Victor twirled his sword in an arc, leapt into the air, and sliced the flame away. It was dramatic, flowing - and if the sharp-edged glint of his sword was an indication, deadly.

“That was perfect,” Yuuri murmured, sadly.

Victor swallowed, “I just… If I don’t practice too, I’m worried you’ll surpass me in  _ everything _ , not just long-range. You were perfect, too.”

Yuuri looked like he wanted to disagree, but Victor slid over to him and cupped his cheek with his hand. “Do you remember when we fought off those mercenaries? It felt… The way we worked together, it was like we were dancing. It felt like a wedding waltz. I knew in that moment that I loved you, Yuuri.”

“Why?” The word had clearly slipped out, unbidden, and Yuuri bit his lip in embarrassment.  

Victor looked pained. “Because you were strong, and brave, and even though I was scared I knew we’d get through it, together.” He pressed his lips to Yuuri’s forehead. “You can take your time, if you’re not ready to talk to me - but please, will you let me fight with you again?”

Yuuri took a deep breath and let Victor wrap himself around him. When the two of them pulled back, their eyes were blazing, and even though this was practice Yuri felt a spike of fear at the way they moved in tandem as they got into position.

He made two flames and tossed them in opposite directions. With sword and slingshot, the couple made them flicker out at almost the same time. Confidence raised, he released a few, rapid fire, only to watch them sizzle into nothingness before his eyes as they were sliced away.

“Two against one is too easy,” He said with mock-bravado, smirking to lighten the heavy atmosphere. Every time Yuuri doubted himself, Yuri doubted himself, and felt the residual fear from his time in the caravan creeping in. It helped to have someone to talk to, and the good of that overwhelmed the fear of seeing someone else like him, so truly traumatized by the woods, but sometimes he needed a sturdier presence to add to Yuuri’s empathetic one. “Otabek, why don’t you get over here too?”

* * *

 

They crossed onto the main road before the sun was highest on the horizon, and a dark black watchtower loomed in the distance. The last one before reaching the bridge, then his village behind a stone wall. 

Yuri and Yuuri kept up their practice during the trip, much to Otabek’s amazement and Victor’s utter glee. Yuuri fashioned a quick slingshot so as not to waste more arrows, and shot stones through the balls of fire that Yuri tossed up in the air, trying to catch them even as they moved. Yuri could still only create a few in a row, but it was better than his abject failures of the past few weeks. 

There was something different about Yuuri - and at one pause on the trail, Victor took Yuuri aside for a few moments. Afterwards, Victor’s eyes were shining with tears, but a happy kind. Otabek caught the two of them murmuring things into each others’ ears on the road, presumably of the  _ let’s communicate _ vibe as opposed to the romantic vibe. 

Yuuri blushed, giggling, and Otabek rolled his eyes. Apparently the whispering was romantic, as well.

Yuri was gazing at them, looking bemused but not upset, sitting up straighter than Otabek had seen the entire trip.

Someone shouted down at them as they passed by the guard tower, and the group looked up to see a ruggedly handsome blonde man, another knight, waving in their direction. 

“Hey, Chris,” Victor called up, waving back. “We’ll catch up later, yeah? We’re in a hurry, heading back.” 

“Wait,” Chris shouted down at them, “If you’re heading in that direction, I have some news I need you to report to headquarters.”

Victor glowered, but he called for the group to stop. 

Chris was out of breath by the time he reached the bottom of the watchtower, and he paused to catch his breath. He glanced up and caught sight of Yuri, and suddenly he broke into a huge smile. “Oh!” He exclaimed, giddily, “You found the lost fairy kid - good job, you two. Honestly, we were beginning to lose hope, by this point.”   


“Actually,” Victor corrected him with reluctance, catching sight of Yuri’s furious expression, “It wasn’t the two of us, it was  _ him _ .” He nodded his head towards Otabek. 

“Oh,” Chris said, “Well, that’s fantastic anyway. I’ve been getting dispatches every other day from some relative asking for information…”

“Dedushka,” Yuri murmured, homesickness aching in his chest.

“We’re trying to get them back together,” Victor said, quickly, “Chris, what’s the news?”

Chris nodded, suddenly serious. “We’ve stopped two big wagons of bandits and mercenaries in the past week, and I know other watchtowers have as well. Both of them had hostages it looked like they were trying to smuggle out and sell. I’ve heard from travellers that were able to escape that there are more out there, that they’re hiding out in the woods, waiting.” He ran his fingers through his short-cropped hair, tense. “We’ve heard rumors that they’re planning something bigger. Stay safe, and don’t stray off the path.”

A combination of frustration and fear roiled in Yuri’s stomach. He exchanged a worried glance with Otabek, and he noticed Victor and Yuuri doing the same. 

They left the watchtower with a renewed vigor and a sense of creeping dread. 

Yuri found it was harder to produce the flames, and Yuuri was struggling to make the mark, so they stopped and rode in solemn silence along the path. 

They were  _ so close _ . Yuri could almost smell the pirozhkis, hot and fresh from the fire, could almost see his grandpa’s salt and pepper beard, could almost feel his warm bed waiting for him. It would be wonderful - though he wondered if the warmth of his bed would make up for the lack of a warm body sleeping beside him. 

Otabek’s heart pounded as they trotted on closer, closer. He glanced at Yuri, a strange sadness spreading through him. He’d forgotten how it felt, not to be alone all the time. 

The didn’t bother to stop and eat, instead tossing each other apples and cheese from the horses’ pouches, munching away on horseback or while walking. 

Afternoon turned to evening, and they stopped in a secluded glade off the path for the night. Yuri didn’t go outside to talk to Yuuri during his watch because Victor was there, refusing to leave his side, and none of them slept well, each crack of branches and howl of the wind calling like a creeping band of thieves.

There were sparks flying from the tips of Yuri’s fingers, but when Otabek drew attention to them, they flickered out. Yuri stared off into the forest with something akin to terror, eyes glazed, but Otabek saw the anger bubbling there beneath the surface.

He found himself taking it in and holding it in his heart. The plea that Yuri made so many times echoed in his mind.

_ Why doesn’t somebody  _ do  _ something about them? _

The next morning wasn’t much better. They ate in silence and hurried to pack their things, Victor and Yuuri not bothering with donning their armor. As they packed, the thunder of a rider on horseback rumbled towards them. They exchanged worried glances - someone was coming towards them, in a hurry.

“Should… Should we get further off the road? Go faster?” Yuuri asked, nervous. His hands were shaking, and Victor took them and clasped them to his chest.

“It sounds like it’s only one person,” Otabek reasoned, though his hand was clasped on the hilt of his sword, “Let’s just pack faster, and if they’re not friendly…”

“What if he has a bow?” Yuuri fretted.

“ _ Hey _ ,” the rider called at them, “ _ Victor _ ,  _ Yuuri - hey! _ ”

“Christophe?” Victor noted, dread creeping into his voice. “ _ Chris _ \- what’s going on?”

Christophe rode up to them, gasping for breath, a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his forehead, crusting blood into his hair. He clutched at his chest, trying to find the breath to speak.

  
“Bandits,” he finally forced out, “They attacked the watch tower in the middle of the night - and they’re coming this way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :o stay tuned!! Next update on Wednesday. Sorry if this chapter didn't have that much, other than the cliffhanger haha. Much more action next time around. The story is kind of winding down, so far I think there are just going to be 2-3 more chapters. I thought it would start to drag too much/get to repetitive otherwise. Thanks for sticking with it!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flaming arrow zoomed through the trees and the area where it hit the dirt burst into flames. Victor’s horse was closest, and it reared up with a terrified whinny. Victor grunted, desperate as he tried to stay on, pulling at the reins with all his strength to steady himself and his horse.
> 
> “Shit,” he swore, “They found us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ~mood music~ for this chapter (in tempo not necessarily in content haha):
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPaz0p2dpEk  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0krxo46Ifbo

“Coming… This way?” Victor asked, blankly.

Chris nodded. “They’re a good few miles behind. I managed to escape them, but the rest of the guards were captured.”

Otabek’s eyes widened, his shoulders shook. He grabbed Yuri’s hand unconsciously, and Yuri backed up into him, hand covering his mouth. 

He heard Yuuri let out a moan of terror behind him.

“I’m going to cut through the woods, come back with more troops. They’re far enough behind, stay out of sight and I’ll come back to you before they catch up,” Christophe said, “They’re trying to push forward to the bridge. They’re in the woods in between here and there, waiting for travelers going forward on the main path to take as hostages. I can outride them, I know it. Stay here, stay out of sight.” 

Before they could protest, he rode off, cutting sideways off the path through the trees. 

“We’re not… Actually just going to sit here, right?” Yuri asked, shakily. “He can’t be serious…”

“We’re trapped,” Yuuri whispered, trembling.

Victor shook his head, trying to figure out what to do. 

Otabek spoke, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “I… I have an idea.” He pulled out a detailed map of the forest, a masterpiece of his own creation. The main path curved like a snake, and he pointed to where they were. It was a straight shot to the bridge, if they dared go directly through the trees. “Chris is going to go south, cutting through this stretch of the forest to reach the main bridge even faster. If what he’s saying is right, there will be bandits there to cut off anyone trying to get news out.”

“Oh,” Victor said, eyes lighting up, pointing to a swath of marshland on the map. “But, if we…” 

Otabek nodded, “If we go southeast, we’ll hit a marsh. It’ll be slow going, but we’re a lot less likely to run into anyone. That place is a death trap.” 

“How the hell are we going to get through it, then?” Yuri snapped. 

Otabek turned to him, “We’re not - we just need a safer place to hide while we wait for reinforcements.” 

“What if reinforcements don’t come?” Yuuri asked, shaking. 

Victor grit his teeth. “Once you’re all safe, I’ll go forward, try to find my way to the bridge.” 

“No!” Yuuri cried, grabbing Victor by the shoulders. “I’ll go with you, what if you run into them?”

“You don’t need to,” Victor implored him, “Please, you can stay where it’s safe.” 

“Victor,” Yuuri snarled, tears beading at the corners of his eyes, “I can  _ do this _ , I know you’re the greatest, that you’re a genius, but don’t cast me aside because I’m not-”

“ _ This isn’t about you _ ,” Victor shouted, and Yuuri pulled back, shocked. Victor sniffled, his own eyes welling up with tears, “ _ God _ , Yuuri, it’s me. It’s always been me. I couldn’t… Couldn’t bear it if you were hurt again.” 

Otabek and Yuri looked on in shock as Victor let out a sob and put his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, head bowed.

“I know,” he sobbed, “I know it can’t be as bad as what you’re going through, but I still have nightmares about that day, nightmares where I can’t protect you. I, oh  _ god _ , I’d hate myself if anything else happened. I’m sorry, Yuuri, I’m  _ sorry _ …” 

“Victor,” Yuuri murmured, voice cracking, tears falling from his lashes, “How do you think I would feel if this happened to you because I stayed behind? When you asked me to marry you, you promised every day to stay by my side. Please, let  _ me _ stay by  _ your _ side.” 

He took a deep, shaking breath, and brought Victor’s face back up to press their lips together. Victor’s eyes widened, shining, in shock, and he wrapped his arms around Yuuri as Yuuri gripped the back of his head, holding him close. 

They pulled back, panting, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes.

Yuri was staring at them, expression unreadable. 

“We shouldn’t split up,” Otabek said, the weight of their predicament pressing on him, “We’re safer together. Stronger together. Let’s get to the marshes first, before we decide what to do.” 

Everyone nodded. Otabek mounted his horse, sitting behind Yuri, hands on the reins. Yuuri and Victor tossed and re-tied belongings to evenly distribute the weight, griping about  _ It was your idea to have us sit together, all romantic _ and  _ Shut up and tie this for me _ , and mounting their own horses separately.

They spurred their horses into movement, cantering along the path before turning off into the forest. 

Branches whipped at their faces as they sped through the trees, and Yuri’s slender body trembled in front of Otabek as he desperately tried to keep control of his emotions. Otabek could feel the vibrations from Yuri’s fear pressing against him, and his resolve strengthened.  _ I’ll keep you safe _ , he thought.

_ You’ll get through this _ , Yuri thought, desperately, trying to take strength from the feeling of Otabek’s arms around him.  _ You’ll hide until it’s safe, then you and Otabek can eat pirozhkis with your grandpa.  _

A flaming arrow zoomed through the trees and the area where it hit the dirt burst into flames. Victor’s horse was closest, and it reared up with a terrified whinny. Victor grunted, desperate as he tried to stay on, pulling at the reins with all his strength to steady himself and his horse. 

“ _ Shit, _ ” he swore, “They found us.”

“We can still lose them,” Otabek shouted as another arrow whizzed through the air and hit a tree not two feet from his head. “C’mon,  _ faster _ .” 

He jerked the reins sharply to the left and they galloped forward, zig-zagging through winding branches and leaping over twisted roots.  _ We can still make it _ , he thought,  _ Just a little bit further _ .

Another flaming arrow embedded in a branch and burst into flame, forcing them further to the left. 

_ What are they doing? _ Otabek wondered, dread creeping up his spine.  _ Where are they? Why don’t they come out? _

The jagged edge of a branch caught Yuri across the cheek and he cried out in pain, hunched forward on the horse. Otabek gripped his shoulder, pressing the reins into him and trying to ignore his own heart pounding with the thunderous hoofprints below him. 

Another arrow, another swift curve to the left to avoid the white-hot flames blocking their way. 

_ They keep pushing us back this way _ , Otabek thought, _ those flaming arrows are expensive, they’re doing this for a reason…  _

He caught Victor and Yuuri’s gaze, and realized they must’ve been thinking the same thing. Otabek knew this area of the forest, knew what was in each direction, that they were headed towards…

“ _ Shit _ ,” he swore, trying desperately to force the group back to the right, “They’re trying to corral us, they’re pushing up back towards the main road!” 

“God  _ dammit _ ,” Victor shouted, pulling the reigns to the right, “ _ Fuck _ , you’re right, we need to…” 

Another arrow burst a bush into flame right in Otabek’s path. His horse reared up, eyes frenzied and terrified, and Otabek desperately gripped Yuri, gripped his horse’s neck to keep them from falling, but it was too late - 

Otabek and Yuri tumbled to the dirt below them, Otabek blocking Yuri with his body as his horse whinnied, reared up again, and brought her hooves down inches from Otabek’s head. 

“ _ Otabek _ ,” Yuuri called, “ _ Yuri! _ ” He took a deep breath, notched an arrow, and sent it whizzing towards a black figure on horseback galloping behind them. It went wide, hitting a tree slightly to the right, and Yuuri choked on his own terror. 

Otabek’s horse was wild with fear as another arrow backed them all up further, towards-

The cover of trees was gone, the dirt path behind them, three cloaked men on horseback ahead of them, and an ugly, covered wooden wagon blocking their path forward to their left. 

Otabek put his arm out, used the size of his body to cover Yuri, keep him between him and the horse, who was still trembling in fear. He didn’t want to look at Yuri, couldn’t bear to have his own fear reflected back at him through his big green eyes, didn’t want to think about how  _ miserably _ his plan to keep them all safe had failed. 

They were trapped, trapped between bandits on two sides, bandits approaching along the path to their right, and a steep, treacherous slope behind them. They’d never get up it, not with the men all around them. 

Otabek attempted to size up the situation. Three men coming towards them, three men outside the wagon blocking the path. They were at least six against four, and Otabek knew there were more men in the wagon. Two bows, everyone armed, versus one bow, two knights, and two teenagers.

The three bandits on horseback stopped at the edge of the woods, and three more men slipped out from the wagon.  _ Nine versus four _ .  _ At least. _

“Surrender,” one of the bandits on horseback commanded, “And we won’t hurt you.” 

As if on cue, the two flanking him raised their bows, notched their arrows.

“Don’t believe them,” Yuri whispered from behind Otabek, “That’s… They said that to me, too.” 

Otabek gripped his sword, gritting his teeth. “I don’t believe you,” he snapped. 

The bandit turned to him. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me. You’re outnumbered. There’s no way you can win this.”

Otabek glared. The men outside the wagon stood, lazily, and the men on horseback barely held their bows. They aim was lazy, not really pointed at any one person. Why hadn’t they attacked already? The four of them were cornered, no chance of escape, they should’ve been an easy steal… 

_ Chris is coming. He’ll be here soon. _

_ But how far will we be from here, before then? What will they do to us? _

_ Can we stall for long enough, or do we need to fight? _

“They’re waiting,” Yuri whispered, realization dawning on him, “They know they have reinforcements coming up the road, so if they just wait it out… We’ll have no chance of running. We’ll be even more outnumbered.” 

Chris was nowhere near close enough, if the bandits had been hot on his tail. 

Otabek inhaled, sharply, eyes shining with anger at the realization. They needed to make their move  _ now _ , before anyone else showed up. If only Yuuri could get the archers, they had a chance… He caught Victor’s eye, tried desperately to communicate that to him. Victor’s eyes kept flitting between Yuuri, trembling on his horse, and the bandits blocking their way back into the forest. They were flint hard, sharp as steel - and not at all focused on Otabek. 

“If you don’t surrender,” The bandit snarled, picking up on Victor’s desperation, his move to protect Yuuri, “I’ll make you regret it. You don’t know what we do to knights who get in our way, and if you don’t drop your weapons  _ now _ , he’s-” he pointed the sharp blade of a sword at Yuuri, who whimpered, “gonna learn real quick.”

Victor let out a scream of rage and charged forward, pulling out his dagger and throwing it in a shining, spinning arc. With murderous precision, it sliced a curved path, landing directly in the lead bandit’s eye. 

Blood and vitreous fluid spurted out of the wound - the man screamed in pain as he was hit, gripping his eye in agony.

The archers veered away on their horses, out of range of Victor’s sword, and sent wobbly, inaccurate arrows flying. One of them barely scraped Victor’s shoulder as he approached his original target, and he growled and lifted his sword, bringing it down in one swift, punishing movement. 

The bandits immediately sprang into action, grabbing swords and knives and rope, scrambling as their leader fell off his horse and slumped to the ground in a tangle of limbs and blood. Victor’s face was white with fury, and he whirled his sword around in a graceful arc as he galloped towards the wagon. 

Otabek ran towards them as well, sword raised, shouting, “ _ Yuuri! Get the archers.” _

He glanced back once, locked eyes with Yuri, who scrambled to hide behind Otabek’s horse, and grit his teeth.  _ I won’t let them get you,  _ he swore to himself,  _ I  _ won’t-

Yuuri notched his arrow with trembling fingers and aimed it at the two bandits as they scrambled to arm themselves. It went wide again, this time zooming well above their heads. They grinned at him, eyes glinting with malice, and both shot back at him. 

“ _ Yuuri _ ,” Victor cried, trying to veer back towards Yuuri, but he was stopped by two furious bandits by his feet aiming to cripple the horse below him. He snarled at them and kicked out at one, sending him sprawling on his back, slicing down on the other, whose head split open as he collapsed to his knees. 

Yuuri gasped at raised his sword just in time, whirling it around to block the arrows, but the bandits had already notched two more, and they were creeping forward like wolves, circling their prey. He shook all over, and Yuri saw self-doubt weakening his movements, dulling his precision. 

Otabek whirled around. He was locked in combat with three bandits, dancing around, light on his feet to  _ just barely _ dodge their knives, spinning to clash swords with one. It left him open, his sword raised above his head, and he lost balance as another bandit swiped at his stomach with a dagger, barely avoiding the dagger slicing his stomach clean open-

Yuuri managed to block the arrows with his sword one more time, but he was backing up slowly, confidence failing as the two men closed in upon him, ugly gashes that curled into hungry grins carved into their lips. 

Yuri leapt onto Otabek’s horse, hands trembling, and tried to muster every shred of confidence he had. 

_ Otabek, warm beside him, hand running through his hair as he trembled after a nightmare. Grandpa, crinkled smile on his face. Yuuri, smiling softly as he shot another arrow through the ball of fire, confident in his own power.  _

Warmth emanated from Yuri’s palms, and a faint orange ball of fire flickered there. Swallowing down his own terror, he raised his hand to the sky.

“Hey!” One of the bandits was screaming, “The kid’s gonna run for it-”

“ _ Yuuri _ ,” Yuri shouted, catching the attention of the two archers, “Just like practice!” 

He tossed the ball of fire behind the head of the archer on the left. Yuuri nodded, gritting his teeth, and with the archers distracted he sent an arrow flying- 

The archer toppled from his horse as an arrow pierced his forehead, collapsing on the ground with a heavy  _ thud _ . The other swore loudly, horse rearing up, and backed up quickly, reaching into his quiver for another arrow. 

“Fuck you,” he spat, “I’ll make you fucking pay for that, I’ll chop your fucking hands- ack!”

Yuuri shot an arrow into his open mouth. Blood trickled down the back of his neck, the point of the arrow sticking out of the back of his throat. 

Otabek toppled backwards, slamming against the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of him. A shadow covered him, someone grabbed his wrists and held them above his head, and the bandit above him raised his sword, readying to plunge it directly into Otabek’s heart. He shouted out, tried to squirm away, tried to free himself as the bandit raised the sword higher, higher-

An arrow plunged directly into the bandit’s heart. He let out a groaning, gasping breath, and staggered back. Otabek jerked his hands free and leapt up, sword in hand, and brought it down to slice an angry, bleeding gash in the legs of the bandit who held him down. 

The bandit howled and sunk to his knees. Otabek kicked out, knocking him out cold, then swirled around to slice the dagger out of the hands of the third. 

Yuuri turned to Yuri, grinning broadly, and Yuri’s blood ran cold as he saw his expression change to terror.

“Yuri,” Yuuri called, “Behind you!”

A hand gripped Yuri’s ankle and yanked at him. He yelped as he lost his grip on the horse, and he clenched his thighs together to keep himself steady, but two hands were gripping his legs and they were pulling him down to the ground below. 

He landed in the dirt on his side, a bandit above him, mouth barely a slit and eyes shining with greed. Yuri balled his hand into a fist, furious and terrified, and punched the bandit in the cheek. He tipped back, but caught his balance and loomed over Yuri. 

Otabek saw red and he staggered forward, wincing as he gasped for breath. 

“A fairy,” the bandit was saying, voice barely above a whisper. His breath was hot, close enough for Yuri to feel it. He shuddered in disgust, fear freezing him in place. He tried to think of the same comfort from before, think of his friends, his family. Warmth pooled in his fists.

The bandit yanked up Yuri’s shirt and the warmth flickered out, replaced by an icy terror.  _ Oh god,  _ he thought,  _ not again, please- _

He screamed as the bandit grabbed his wings and tugged at them, like a child torturing a butterfly. “Get off me,” he wailed, “Get off-”

“We’ve got a fairy,” the bandit shouted out to his remaining companions, “guys, we’re gonna make so much fucking money-”

“Get off of him,” Yuuri snarled, raising his bow-

An arrow split the air and landed squarely in Yuuri’s shoulder. He cried out in pain, his own arrow flying wide, his bow clattering to the ground. Blood stained his shirt and he groaned, gritting his teeth and gripping the bleeding wound in his shoulder

Victor roared as he decapitated the bandit circling around him with one swift, cruel cut, eyes only on Yuuri.

The thunder of horses galloping from further down the path echoed like cannonfire. They were under siege, and enemy reinforcements were rapidly approaching. 

“We’re gonna make so much fucking money,” the bandit grinned at Yuri, cruelly, and the same helplessness from before threatened to choke him. 

With eyes hard as flint and sharp as steel, Otabek brought his sword down on the bandit. His head cracked open, splattering like a split melon, and Otabek ripped him off of Yuri with the sheer force of his fury. 

Droplets of blood splattered onto Yuri’s face and he gasped, eyes wide, trying to calm himself down while his mind was still reeling, screaming at him  _ it’s happening again! They’re going to torture you just like before! _ Distracting him like bright bursts of lightning in a dark sky. 

Otabek grabbed Yuri, half-dragging him back towards the wagon, desperate to stamp out the terror twinkling in his eyes. Yuuri let out a pained sob and dropped to his knees beside the horse, gripping his bow with a blood-soaked hand. Victor dismounted with a sob, too, and Yuuri turned to him, eyes watering in his agony.

This was it, it was all over-

  
“Get back on your horse,” Yuuri hissed at Victor, sheer force of will stronger than anything Yuri had ever seen, bloody arrow still embedded in him, “I’m not… I’m not done yet.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victor & Yuuri's convo/fight at the beginning of the chapter was 100% inspired by that scene in the Incredibles.
> 
> I swear I didn't mean to leave a second cliffhanger, but I massively overestimated how much time I'd have to edit, and only got about halfway through what I'd written. The next chapter will be up on Friday!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically every tag I gave this fic pops up in this chapter, just to let you all know. I thought about giving the bandits a little bit more ~complexity~ and ~nuance~ than your average Berserk gang of monsters but ultimately... Didn't.

Victor paused, desperation shining in his eyes. He swallowed down a sob of his own and mounted his horse again as though the very movements caused him agony. 

With a gasp of pain and beads of sweat on his brow, Yuuri forced himself back onto his horse, pulling them both backwards as another arrow sunk into the dirt where the horse’s head had been a second before. 

Victor turned to Yuuri. “Just like with the mercenaries. Yuuri, you can do this.” 

Yuuri nodded, brow furrowed, serious. He turned to Otabek, eyes shining. “Keep Yuri safe,” he said, “I’ll take out any archers, but I can’t get everyone on the ground.”

Five riders, six men running beside them. One of them shot an arrow that landed in the wooden frame of the wagon, and Yuuri shot back at them, trembling in pain at the arrow him his arm. 

He hit one of the horses, and it an the rider tumbled forward. He and Victor exchanged a look and charged towards the approaching enemy, Victor with his sword held high, Yuuri sending arrows flying. 

Otabek turned to Yuri, who was still shaking. “What do you want to do? Do you want to help us fight, or do you want to stay hidden?”

“Every time I try,” Yuri whispered, “I just end up failing. Needing you to save me. I’d need… I’d need to be able to send out a wave of fire to help you against these people, and I just…” He closed his eyes, and two tracks of tears fell down his cheeks. “I don’t think I can. I’m not… Not strong enough.”

Otabek nodded. “You  _ are _ strong,” he assured him. “But you don’t need to cause yourself more trauma. We’ll get you home,” he promised, and without thinking he pressed a kiss to Yuri’s forehead. 

Yuri blushed and nodded, and ran to hide underneath the wagon wheels, swallowing his sobs and weakness painfully. 

Otabek had thought that Victor had been exaggerating when he told them the story of fighting off an entire garrison of mercenaries, just the two of them, but as he watched them fight he realized maybe it’d been true. Yuuri had already taken down three men by the time the group descended upon them - and from there, it was as though Yuuri and Victor were of one mind, working in tandem. 

Victor ducked down to let Yuuri loose an arrow and he swirled around him, waving his sword and slicing down at just the right angle. Their movements were a graceful, terrifying dance, a couple’s routine barely hindered by the arrow still embedded in Yuuri’s arm. 

Otabek grappled, grunting, with a bandit that had made it ahead of the pack. Their swords clashed with a terrifying clank of metal, and Otabek barely dodged an iron-clad fist swinging by his face. He grabbed it, hand aching as it hit pure metal, forcing it back, back-

A kick, a knee to the stomach, and the air was pummeled from Otabek’s lungs. He sunk to the ground, managing with weakened strength to swipe his sword  _ up _ \- 

The man fell back, neck split open and spraying blood into the air.

_ I’ll get you home,  _ Otabek had promised. His strength was fading, his legs weak - another bandit, descending like vultures on a corpse.

Yuri huddled under the wagon, trying to calm his breathing. His forehead still tingled where Otabek had kissed him. Tears beaded at his eyes, and he curled up into himself. Why had this happened? What had he done to deserve this much pain, this much weakness?

Yuuri’s grip was slippery from his own blood, his eyes watering in pain and obscuring his vision. He lost his grip on his bow and it clattered to the ground. He cried out in despair and reached down to grab it but his fingers were too wet, and he tumbled, terrified, down to the earth. 

His shoulder hit the ground first and he couldn’t stop the agonized scream that tore out of him. He managed to roll himself onto his back, Victor’s voice barely recognizable in the roaring of his ears.

Then he felt the heavy, iron weight of someone stepping onto his stomach. Yuuri struggled to right himself - there was a bandit corpse right beside him, if he could just get the sword from it…

Victor sliced the bandit’s head off and he tumbled to the side, off of Yuuri, but there was another one right behind him, and suddenly someone had cut a gash just above Victor’s eye and he couldn’t get to Yuuri because he needed to fight off two men at the same time-

The bandit grabbed the feathered end of the arrow in Yuuri’s shoulder and pulled it down, sending shooting sparks of pain up Yuuri’s arm. He cried out and fell back, fingers stretching desperately, so close to the hilt-

Another awful shock of pain, the arrow’s edge twisting, being pushed deeper into his shoulder. Yuuri moaned in pain.

“Sounds nice,” the bandit grinned. “I can’t wait to hear your voice when I rip your guts out and choke you with them.” 

He lifted up his knife, sliding it along Yuuri’s front, stopping just below his clothed belly button. His eyes were wild, hungry, monstrous-

Yuuri thrust  _ up _ with the sword, pressing until the tip of the blade poked out the bandit’s back, arched like an exposed bit of spine. With one last shot of adrenaline, he forced the bandit  _ off _ , gasping desperately for breath on his back. 

Victor roared, furious, leaping from his horse to knock the last rider off, then leaping to the ground to plunge his sword through the man’s throat. He scrambled up, put himself between Yuuri and the bandits before them. 

One of them laughed at him, an awful hacking cackle. “I don’t think you’re friend’s gonna make it. I was hoping for two knights, but we can make do with one.”

Victor took a step back, a cold shock of terror running through him, but he didn’t lower his sword. Blood dripped from the gash on his forehead into his eye, blurring his vision, but he didn’t dare wipe it away.

One of the bandits punched him, square in the nose, with an awful cracking sound. Blood spurted from it and Victor cried out, nearly toppling back onto Yuuri. He ground his feet into the dirt, swinging wildly, catching the bandit in the arm. Yuuri stabbed out with the sword, still lying in the dirt, bringing the bandit to his knees.

There was another one right behind him.

* * *

 

Yuri heard rustling behind him, felt hot breath on the back of his neck and a knife-edge at his throat.

“Your friend should have killed us when he had the chance,” the bandit hissed.

* * *

 

_ There are too many _ , Otabek thought,  _ more will probably come, and I’m, I can’t… _

A twig snapped from near the wagon wheels. Otabek didn’t dare look back, all of the other bandits were dead or out cold-

Pain seared through Otabek’s skull as he was hit and he sunk to his knees. There was hard, hollow laughter behind him, and he pushed himself up on his hand to see-

“Otabek,” Yuri called, “ _ Otabek _ , no!”

Yuri with his hands behind his back, on his knees, the bandit that Otabek had spared gripping his shoulders as he struggled and squirmed. 

Fury rushed through him and he reached for his sword, just out of his grasp.  _ I’ll kill you _ , he thought,  _ I spared you, and you- _

The tang of blood burst in his mouth as another bandit’s fist connected with his cheek. Yuri’s cry pierced him as he fell onto his back with a  _ thud _ . 

Two bandits he hadn’t had the guts to kill, now poised to kill him. The one looming over him was large, muscular like an orc, with pulsating veins in his arms. He was grinning, and he crouched beside Otabek, pressing him into the earth with one hand.

Yuuri and Victor were fighting their own battle, blood loss blinding them as they desperately fought off the last four bandits on their end. Yuuri looked ready to pass out, and Victor kept dropping to one knee, unable to hold himself upright, blood dripping from his nose and into his mouth.

_ No _ , Yuri cried, internally, sobbing as they held him down,  _ no, no, we were so close… Victor and Yuuri need to get married, Otabek and I need to get home. We can’t lose, not after this long- _

Nothing was happening. No fire was coming out. What could he do? Could a few fireballs really turn the tide?

_ But are you really surprised? _ An insidious voice inside him whispered,  _ You’re weak, and your friends couldn’t protect you. They’re going to die, and you’ll be sold off somewhere, and it’ll be all your fault. _

_ Shut up! Shut up, shut up-  _

His hands were shaking. Focus, focus, think of your friends to focus.

_ You’re never going to see your Grandpa again. _

“ _ No _ ,” Otabek shouted, and Yuri’s eyes flew open. 

The bandit pressed his bent knee into Otabek’s crotch, pressing down. Otabek squeezed his eyes shut, squirming, trying to fight against the bandit’s laughter and the rising panic in his chest. 

A hand was under his shirt, claws slicing at his abdomen. Someone was grabbing his leg and wrenching it sideways. 

“You’re not as pretty as your friend,” the bandit breathed on him, breath hot and stinking, “But if we have him, I’m worried there’ll be nothing left to sell, so you’ll have to do.” 

“Yuri,” Otabek called out, voice cracking, trying and failing to get the crushing weight  _ off _ , “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t… Couldn’t get you home…” He couldn’t bear to open his eyes, to look at Yuri. Shame crept up him, leaving bright red splotches on his cheeks. 

“ _ Otabek _ ,” Yuri called, desperate. He slumped, to the floor, eyes squeezed shut, and let out a sob. 

He was afraid. Fear made him weak, but there was something else there, too. Something hot, and bubbling, and churning in his stomach. He was  _ angry _ . Angry at what had happened to Yuuri, to him, what was happening to Otabek. 

_ You think you can just hurt people? Hurt my friends? _

Laughing on the trail with Otabek, practicing his fire power with Yuuri, even listening to Victor talking about Yuuri, the love in his voice.

_ You want to take that away from me? _

Something was sizzling behind him. He smelled a faint scent of smoke. Yuri’s eyes flew open and he wrenched his wrists away. There was fire in his hands, bright and burning, and the bandit’s eyes widened in awe for just a moment-

_ Why doesn’t somebody  _ do something  _ about them? _

Yuri grabbed the bandit’s neck, hands still burning, cutting into his windpipe with his dulled claws.

The bandit’s eyes bugged out and he flailed, thrashed, and fell to the dirt, clawing at his closed-up throat with awful, gasping rasps. 

The image was grotesque, the blisters bubbling up on his neck, and for a moment Yuri was afraid of it, of what he’d done. He closed his eyes, though, and forced it from his mind, flooding his memory with the image of Otabek’s shining black eyes.

Yuri stood, shakily, and stalked over the the bandit on top of Otabek. Otabek’s shirt was up, his eyes squeezed shut, and Yuri had a flash of the wagon floor they’d kept him in. He wasn’t afraid of it now, he was  _ murderous _ .

He clasped his hands around the bandit’s neck and let the warmth, the burning pour out of him. He smelled the sizzling of skin and bit down the bile rising up in his throat.  _ Don’t think _ , he pleaded with himself,  _ don’t think, don’t stop.  _

There was no blood. No slippery, metallic mess, just a scream that sunk beneath the roaring in his ears and faded away.

He let go. The bandit slumped forward, and Otabek pushed him off, scrambling away with a wild terror in his eyes.

The remaining bandits were staring at him, terrified. Victor’s eyes shone with an impressed shock. 

“It’s a fairy,” one of them shouted. Yuri had heard that before, but this time it was different. This bandit wasn’t hungry for him, he was  _ scared _ of him.

_ The chill of winter was melting away with snow into the stream. Dead leaves and twigs were emerging from the winter frost. If he burned them, they could start the planting with fresh, rich soil, and in the fall they’d harvest corn and apples and serve them hot with cider. _

_ His grandpa’s hand was on his back, his own hands were blazing hot. “Go ahead, Yuratchka, you can do it.” _

Yuri nodded, then he shouted, “Victor,  _ duck _ .”

In one last, desperate move, the bandit swung his sword down at Victor’s head- 

Yuuri pushed himself up with all his strength and _ tackled _ Victor to the ground, arms wrapped around his knees-

A hot, crackling blade of fire swept across the path. It sliced through trees, made sparks fly from branches, and burst through the remaining bandits like a knife. With an ugly popping, sizzling sound, they fell to the dirt.

The still standing horses reared up in terror and bolted, barely escaping the fire before it fizzled out into the air.

Branches crackled and burned around them, scorched lines were scored into trees. An awful smell of burning filled the path. 

Silence pressed down on them like a vice. 

“Now,” Victor said, voice muffled by his bloody nose, “We just need to hope there aren’t any more.” 

Yuuri flopped backwards, hand covering his eyes, chest heaving. Otabek stood, shakily, staring at the burnt corpse of the bandit who had been on top of him.

  
Yuri sunk to his knees and vomited. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter on Wednesday! I know that's a bit of a longer wait than usual, but this semester is fuckin' killing me. I appreciate your patience with this story, and thanks for sticking with it this far!


	10. Chapter 10

Yuri’s whole body was shaking, his vision blurry. 

_ Did I just…? Did I really just kill all of those people? _

Yuri was on hands and knees, hunched over on the blood-stained dirt. Otabek was behind him, hands holding his hair into a ponytail as he hacked and dry-heaved. 

_He would have just kept coming back to hurt us. He almost killed you,_ he remembered saying, the night after they were attacked the first time. Was it okay, then, that he’d…?

Otabek pulled Yuri to him when he stopped dry-heaving, holding his head against his chest. Yuri was shaking all over - if Otabek tried, he could pretend that the trembling in his hands was from the vibrations of Yuri’s back, not his own fear. 

Yuri looked up to find tears beading in Otabek’s eyes. His heart  _ ached _ , and he pulled Otabek to him, letting him bury his head in the crook of Yuri’s neck, like  _ he’d _ done with Otabek a dozen times. 

Yuuri groaned in pain as Victor propped him up. He smiled, weakly, wincing as his back hit the tree. Victor gripped his hand and held it to his lips, tears in his eyes.

“Yuuri,” Victor murmured, tears in his eyes, “You were so brave.” 

“Mm,” Yuuri sighed, wincing, “Thank you.” He took a deep breath and raised his hand, cupping Victor’s cheek, and said, “Victor… You look awful.” 

“What!” Victor cried, aghast, “Why are you so cruel, Yuuri?” 

Tears filled Victor’s eyes, and he leaned forward, sobbing against Yuuri’s chest. 

“I can’t have hurt your feelings that bad,” Yuuri said, with a joking exasperation, shifting with a discomfort that clearly had nothing to do with the wound in his shoulder.

Victor didn’t lift his head, sobbing, “You didn’t have anything to prove to me, but god, what you did today should convince anyone t-that you’re…” He trailed off, emotion choking him.

“I love you, Victor,” Yuuri whispered, voice crackling at the edges, hands trembling as he swiped a trickle of blood from Victor’s forehead. “I shouldn’t have… If I hadn’t insisted we go on patrol…”

“Shh,” Victor soothed him, “Shh, darling. You saved me. If you hadn’t been here, we might not have made it out alive.”

“I’m so glad,” Yuuri murmured, voice fading out, “I’m so glad that we were together.”

Victor’s hands were shaking, and he cried as he pulled the arrow from Yuuri’s arm, let out another ugly sob as he disinfected the wound with alcohol and Yuuri let out a muffled grunt of pain. 

“You’re being so brave,” he whispered as he stitched the wound up. 

Yuuri nodded, a cold sweat on his brow at the pain. 

“You were so brave,” Otabek tried, voice cracking, “You…” 

Yuri looked up at him. His eyes were dry, his expression hard and blazing. “I don’t need you to tell me that.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t want you to tell me that. I was desperate.”

“You saved all of us,” Otabek tried again. 

“I just,” Yuri said, voice cracking, “I needed to do  _ something _ …”

Yuri ducked his head, but Otabek could tell by his shaking shoulders that he was crying. Otabek kind of wanted to cry, himself. He’d never been so emotionally and physically exhausted, not since the day he rode up to village to find a field of smouldering ash.

Victor pulled a bottle of medicine from a sack on his horse, who miraculously had survived the fight unscathed, if terrified out of his mind. 

Yuuri drank down a few gulps, wincing at the taste, but he relaxed almost immediately as the medicine took hold. Victor took a gulp as well, for good measure, and held it out to Otabek and Yuri. 

“You two want some laudanum?” he offered. His face was still covered in drying, cracking streaks of blood, and Otabek was sure they all looked like a hellish wreck. 

Horses approached, and fear clouded Victor’s expression. 

Yuri gasped and scrambled up, trying to call back the same strength that had saved them earlier.

Relief spread over Victor’s face, and he sunk to his knees. “It’s Chris,” he breathed, “Chris and an entire squadron from the castle.”

Otabek let out an audible sigh of relief as the group pulled up. Chris’ eyes widened in shock at the scene around him, at the mess of bodies and burning branches. 

“Jesus,” he gasped, “What the hell happened here?”

“What does it look like?” Victor snapped at him. 

“Hey, is something burning?” 

A second figure rode up to the front of the group. Yuri’s eyes widened, his blood boiled. 

“You-” he spat out, cheeks flushed red in anger.

“Hey, Yuri,” the knight called, winking an ice blue eye at him, “Long time no see! Good you’re safe.”

“Fuck off, JJ,” Yuri shouted back, but without his usual venom. He was  _ tired _ . They all were. 

There wasn’t time to stop. Christophe charged forward, and the sound of the riders echoed long after they were out of earshot. Two knights stayed behind to clear up the corpses.

JJ helped them hitch up the bandits’ wagon, much to Yuri’s chagrin, and they rode in the back of it on the last leg of their journey to the castle. Otabek didn’t think he could’ve made it any further on horseback, not after their fight. Everything  _ ached _ . 

Otabek dozed at the beginning of the journey. Yuuri lay on his good side, in a drug-induced delirium, clutching Victor’s hand like he was afraid someone would rip it away from him.

Yuri still could barely bear to be in the back of a wagon after his ordeal, so he stayed awake and cleaned the blood from Victor’s face, as Victor seemed incapable of doing anything other than holding Yuuri. 

“Yurio,” Victor sighed, a far-away look in his eyes, “thank you.” 

He ran his thumb along Yuuri’s cheek, gently. Yuri blushed and looked away. 

“What kind of stupid nickname is that?” he asked.

“Victor,” Yuuri murmured, “When we get back, let’s get married.” 

“Of course, darling.”

“I  _ mean  _ it. It doesn’t matter that I’m still not better, I never want to lose you.” He pulled Victor down by his shirt collar and kissed him, sloppily. “We’ll drop Yuri off, find the nearest state office, and we’ll get married.” 

“I’m taking you right to a doctor,” Victor soothed, nuzzling into the crook of Yuuri’s neck, “ _ then  _ we’ll find the nearest state office, and we’ll get married.” 

“Hey, how’d you clowns fight off all those bandits anyway?” JJ called to them from the front of the wagon. “Since you’re, you know, three guys and a little girl.”

“Fuck  _ off _ JJ,” Yuri shouted, tossing a bunched up cloth at his head. “Don’t act so tough, you started crying when my grandpa’s pig started chasing you just two months ago.” 

JJ let out a barking laugh, though Yuri caught the embarrassed pink tinge to his cheeks. Otabek jerked awake at the noise and rubbed his eyes, yawning. 

“Actually,” Victor commented wryly, “We fought off all those bandits because Yuri eviscerated them in a flaming inferno.”

Silence. JJ’s eyes widened in surprised. 

“And I’m gonna burn down your stupid maple tree if you don’t fuck off and leave us alone, you shithead,” Yuri snarled.

JJ’s eyes flitted from Yuuri’s bandaged shoulders to the bloodied edges of Victor’s nose to Otabek’s dull, dazed look. He flushed bright red and turned around.

Yuri sat down with a huff. He was still shaking, but it was easier to focus on his familiar, superficial anger at JJ than the real fear he still felt. 

His knee nudged Otabek’s, Yuri craving his familiar warmth, and Otabek jolted and jerked away.

Yuri paused, surprised, and then remembered. A shudder ran through him and he couldn’t meet Otabek’s gaze.  _ That’s what I did, the first day,  _ he thought.

“Sorry,” Otabek murmured, “You… I was just surprised.”

“It’s alright,” Yuri replied, even though it fundamentally  _ wasn’t _ . 

“No,” Otabek insisted, “It wasn’t… I shouldn’t be acting like that, they barely touched me.” 

“Don’t say that,” Yuri snapped at him, though without his usual venom. His heart thumped in his chest, and a million different sentence starters flashed through his mind. Something like  _ it wasn’t your fault _ or  _ everyone experiences things differently _ , though the only reason he’d heard the last was when he’d been  _ scolded _ for laughing at JJ running away from that pig - apparently he’d been chased down by one as a child.

None of them seemed like enough.

“It would’ve been worse if you weren’t there,” Otabek forced out, throat strangely tight.

Yuri blinked, then curled up on his side, resting his head on Otabek’s crossed legs. 

“I thought that a lot, too,” Yuri murmured, “After you rescued me. If you hadn’t been there, things just would’ve been worse. I would’ve been sold off somewhere, never would’ve seen my family again.” He closed his eyes. “It was still bad, though.” 

“I just…” Otabek said, hand on Yuri’s head, “Yuri, thank you.” 

“Mm,” Yuri sighed, “You too, Otabek.”

* * *

 

The familiar rushing water and jolt of the wagon wheels rolling over stone signalled crossing into view of the castle. Eventually, the familiar walls of Yuri’s village loomed above them. 

“I need to take these two to the doctor, in the town center,” JJ explained, nodding at Victor and Yuuri, “Can you get home by yourself?”

Yuri nodded, eyes shining. He could barely contain himself from leaping from the wagon and running the whole way home as they rolled through the gates. 

“Yuri, Otabek,” Yuuri was slurring, the medication steadily wearing off, “You’ll come to our wedding, won’t you?” 

“Of course,” Otabek promised. 

“I’ll buy you a new suit for the event,” Victor promised, eyes flitting to Otabek’s ragged clothes.

A thought occurred to Yuri. “Yuuri,” he asked, “Do you want to practice with your bow and arrows with me, sometime?” 

Yuuri’s eyes filled with happy tears. “I’d love to,” he sniffled. 

“You should really consider becoming a knight,” Victor said, glancing at Yuri. “It would be a huge advantage, having someone with your abilities. You too, Otabek.” 

Otabek blushed. Yuri nodded, stiffly. Maybe some day. For now, he wanted to spend a lot of time at home.

As they hopped out of the wagon, JJ turned to them. Yuri prepared to curse JJ out again, but JJ simply said, “I’ll be back in just a bit to file an official report.” Then, he turned to Otabek. “You know, we’re looking for people to guard this village. We’re short on staff, at the moment.” 

Otabek nodded, contemplative, untying his horse from the wagon. Yuri snapped his mouth shut.

* * *

 

Each step felt like an eternity. Yuri knew the familiar path, knew exactly how the warm light of sunset made the fields around him gleam, orange and gold. It was quiet as the cold evening settled in, as his neighbors took in the last of their day’s work from the outside. 

When he saw his grandpa’s house, his eyes filled with tears and he cried out, “ _ Dedushka _ ,” nearly tripping over his own feet as he sprinted towards the wooden door. “Dedushka, I’m here!”

The door opened, and a rough looking old man stepped out, blinking in the setting rays of the sun. “Yura?” he questioned, voice trembling with suspicion. He caught Yuri’s eye and gasped, tears welling up. “Yuratchka,” he called, running forward.

Yuri leapt into his grandpa’s arms, burying his head in his neck. His grandpa sunk to his knees, and the two of them clung to each other, Yuri swallowing down the tears because he knew if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuri whispered, voice thick with unshed tears, “You told me not to go too far into the forest.” 

“It doesn’t matter, Yuratchka. You’re  _ home _ .”

Yuri choked out a sob and wrapped his arms around his grandpa even tighter, soaking in that rough wool coat, the smell of oil that always seemed to cling to him, the crackling fire from inside the house. He felt warm hands at the tips of his short hair and he winced. How could he explain that to his grandpa, to anyone from home?

Yuri couldn’t stand, couldn’t do anything but cling. His emotions were roiling in his stomach so much that he felt he was going to be sick with the strength of it. 

Grandpa Plisetsky noticed Otabek, standing awkwardly, a ways back. “Yura,” he questioned, voice gruff, “Who is this?” 

Yuri wondered whether he could open his mouth without crying, but he forced himself to answer, voice shaking, “Otabek. He… He’s the one who saved me. He’s the reason I’m home.” Tears welled up in his eyes again and he choked back a sob.

“Well,” Grandpa Plisetsky said, standing with cracking joints, “I suppose I should thank you.” 

“Can… Can he stay with us tonight?” Yuri asked, quickly, still on his knees. “It’s too late to travel…” 

Yuri’s grandfather shook Otabek’s hand, eyes pained. “Of course. Of course you can.”

He stalked back over to Yuri and pulled him to his feet, helped him walk to the door, as his steps were faltering and weak. “I made some pirozhkis yesterday. Honestly, I’ve been making them a few times a week for the past few weeks… Just so I’d be ready, in case you came home. Do you want me to warm them up for you?”

“Yes, please,” Yuri nodded, and he rest his head on his grandpa’s shoulder. He thought of his warm bed, of eating dinner with his grandpa after a long day on the farm. He hoped he’d be able to enjoy it again, after everything that had happened. 

His stomach growled, loudly, and he let the boom of his grandpa’s laughter wash over him with the last rays of the setting sun.

* * *

 

Yuri all but inhaled five, six pirozhkis in the span of a few minutes. His grandfather kept pulling out plates of them, pirozhkis and potato pancakes hot off the oil. 

In some ways, it was as though he had just come home from an afternoon out in the fields. The sun was sinking below the horizon, and it was the two of them and the crackling fire - the way it had been for as long as Yuri could remember.

In others, though, nothing was at all the same. Otabek was perhaps the starkest example of this, even as he stared into the plates and plates of food, overwhelmed by sheer volume. He was still a little bit shaky, and had jumped in his seat at the clatter of silverware being placed onto the table. 

Both Otabek and his grandfather were stoic, silent types. At one point, they appeared to have an entire conversation through a glance and a pointed finger.

Yuri could barely adjust. He’d spent nearly a month away, sleeping on wagon floors and in tents, with cracked hands and nightmares and pain, and now he was sitting by the gentle light of a fire in the comforts of his childhood home. It was suffocating, overwhelming in its peace. 

His breath was becoming shallow and Yuri gulped it down with another bite of pirozhki, but he choked on the doughy exterior, coughing loudly - it seemed to echo in the quiet room. In the forest, he could scream and cry and yell and no one would stop him.

There were suddenly two people beside him - his grandpa patting him on the back, Otabek holding his arm. That was nice. It wasn’t too still.

Yuri could tell his Grandpa had questions for them both. News of the bandit attack was slowly trickling in from beyond the gates, probably spurred on by JJ, and he could imagine the worry running through his grandfather’s mind. The warring,  _ I know the rumors about what bandits do _ and  _ but my Yuratchka could fight them off _ and  _ why is his hair short _ .

He decided he’d say he got lost and leave it at that without further prompting. And, if he was prompted, well… 

Yuri blinked as a question seemed to form on his grandpa’s tongue. “I’m sleepy, dedushka,” he murmured, watching the question flicker away, “I’m going to draw a bath and go to bed.”

Maybe if he avoided it, it could be like nothing had happened.

* * *

 

Otabek had trouble sleeping on the soft straw mattress, so used to the solid, hard ground, with sticks poking him in the back during the night. His stomach was more full than it had been in months, and he’d even had the chance to wash with a hot bath. His village had barely gotten indoor plumbing before it was destroyed, forget a water heater. 

He settled back into his pillows, trying to let the sounds of the animals nearby and the whistling of the wind carry him to sleep, and finding it didn’t work. Otabek let out a frustrated groan. His most comfortable conditions in a  _ long time _ and his body was rejecting them. 

Maybe that wasn’t because of the mattress, though. Maybe, even on the softness of a real bed, he couldn’t get the memory of those awful, orc-like hands on his legs out of his head. 

_ He barely touched you _ , Otabek snapped at himself.  _ Stop it, why can’t you calm down? _

Yuri knocked on the slightly ajar door softly and stepped in, face illuminated by an oil lamp. He saw Otabek, lying awake, and he smiled softly. 

“Can’t sleep either, hm?” he asked, “I kind of thought I might find you like this.” 

He sat on the edge of Otabek’s bed. Otabek noticed his pajamas - cotton, with cut out slits where his wings could poke out, loose fitting but not nearly so much as Otabek’s shirt. They looked soft. Everything about Yuri looked softer, now that he was home and his belly was full of food. 

“What are you going to do now?” Yuri asked, a hint of something in his tone. A hint of an idea, of what Yuri wanted him to do.

“For right now, I’m going to visit Victor and Yuuri at the hospital tomorrow,” He replied. “Do you want to come with me?”

Yuri nodded, but shortly. Otabek could tell he was looking for a different answer.

“I’m so close to the castle,” Otabek murmured, “It’s always been my dream to show the royal archives my maps. I don’t know if they want to listen to me, though.” 

“They might want to listen to a knight,” Yuri responded, hurriedly, leaning over Otabek, their noses almost touching. 

Otabek pondered that. “I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t… I don’t think I want to be alone anymore.” 

“You could stay here,” Yuri continued, “That way we won’t need to get all our news from Jean-Jacques fucking Leroy.” 

“Do you… Want me to stay here?” Otabek asked, suddenly shy. 

Yuri closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into Otabek’s chest. “I do. I think I do. I’ve been thinking a lot about Victor and Yuuri since I got back, about the way they are with each other. How do you get to be like that with someone?” 

Otabek’s eyes widened and he blushed bright red.

Yuri seemed to realize what he said and he jerked back until they were no longer touching, his hands up. “Don’t misunderstand!” he spluttered, “I’m not gonna ask you to marry me!” He sighed, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “I don’t know exactly how I feel, I have no idea how this _ works _ , I’ve never…” 

He trailed off, pain flashing in his eyes. Otabek put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder, and Yuri gripped it, smiling sadly. 

“But I did realize that I don’t want you to leave again. After everything we went through together, I want you to stay here, stay with me.” Yuri met Otabek’s eyes, both of them with little orange sparks flickering in them from the lamplight. “Besides, my grandpa  _ loves _ you, and not just because you saved my life and dropped everything to take me on an amazingly dangerous journey through the forest.” 

“You should give yourself more credit,” Otabek insisted, “You saved all of us back there. Your grandpa should know how powerful his grandson is.”

Yuri shook his head. “I don’t want to tell him anything about what happened to me in the forest. Not yet. I’m not ready.” 

Otabek nodded. Yuri looked at him expectantly, and Otabek frowned, confused.

“Well?” Yuri asked, poking him in the chest, “Aren’t you going to make room for me?” 

Otabek blushed again, stumbling over his words as he questioned, “Are you sure?”

Yuri nodded. “I can’t fucking sleep. At least if this doesn’t work, I can keep talking to you.”

Otabek shifted back and Yuri slipped under the thick woolen covers. He was warm, and Otabek felt his shoulder blades, sharp against his chest. He pressed his arm to his side, stiffly.

“You can put your arm around me,” Yuri remarked, “I’ll push you off if I get scared. Or I’ll light you on fire.” 

Tentatively, delicately, Otabek draped his arm over Yuri’s shoulders. Yuri grabbed his hand and brought it up to his chin, his lips barely grazing the calloused fingers. It was soft, warm. It made the rough sting of his memories fade as he focused on the feeling of Yuri’s body in front of him.

“Y-Yuri,” Otabek stammered, tongue trying out words he’d never attempted before, “I… I want to stay with you too.” 

Yuri’s lips curled into a small smile, something Otabek felt against his hand. It wasn’t quite a marriage proposal, but it felt a little like one.

  
“I’m glad,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laudanum is the health potion in Amnesia, and also a very strong pain medicine from the 1800s(?). It's main component is opium, lol. 
> 
> There's going to be a quick timeskip afterward coming soon, but I can't give you an exact date. How exactly to structure the epilogue has eluded me. I'm gonna set my goal as next Wednesday, so a week from today, but we'll see. :/ 
> 
> Thanks so much for all of your support! Your comments and kudos and bookmarks really mean a lot to me. :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so late you guys, I'm so sorry lmao. I have bunch of reasons for that, most of them having to do with real life biting me in the ass. I also wrote and re-wrote it multiple times because I wasn't sure how to end everything satisfactorily, there were so many plot threads I wanted to tie up. I hope you still like the chapter, and that you don't find it anti-climactic for the wait. I did realize after I promised the afterward that I actually gave it a pretty good end point in chapter 10, but I also wanted to give some insight into how everyone (esp Yuri) was doing after the fact. :P If you don't like it, just ignore this!! Ch 10 is the true end.
> 
> The other reason this is late is because I caught a plot bunny (do people even say that anymore?) and started writing another YOI fic. Similar content warnings to this one - in fact, it's a fair bit more explicit, and it's Victuuri focused as opposed to Otayuri. Shameless plug, I know, and I'm (a little) sorry. :D You can check it out here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10095662/chapters/22486724
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me, I appreciate all your comments and kudos and support for this fic!

True to their word, the moment the doctor cleared Yuuri to leave, they had run to the village courthouse and made their marriage kingdom-official. The sun was just sneaking up over the horizon when the two of them pushed through the oak doors, Victor still holding Yuuri upright, or possibly unwilling to let him go for more than a moment.

Their witnesses were JJ and a pretty doctor’s assistant who had cleaned and bandaged up the wounds. According to reports, JJ had cried as the happy couple said their “I do”s.

They spent the day planning the celebration with the complete strangers in Yuri’s village. A winter wedding was strange, if not an ill omen, but the happy couple couldn’t bring themselves to care. 

Victor charmed all the village cooks to provide as much of a feast as they could, and salted pork, cured sausages, pickled cabbage and beets and cucumbers were impromptu splayed out on a table in the middle of the village. 

Yuri’s grandpa provided a platter of pirozhkis, leftover from his stress-cooking during Yuri’s absence. It caused a twinge of pain to imagine his grandpa, slaving over a hot stove, cooking for a grandchild he wasn’t sure would come home. 

Victor regaled the citizens of their quiet little enclave with tales of his exploits - his dashing rescues, merciless slaughter of mercenaries, winning the prize of a lifetime, the beautiful, brave Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuri sat at the back with Otabek, trying not to prickle at all the curious stares, fending off questions from his grandpa about who the hell these two were.

“We’re taking some time off,” Yuuri murmured as he plopped down beside Yuri and Otabek, overwhelmed by the attention. He was shaking his head, eyes still glassy from what Yuri assumed was more pain medication. “I wonder if he wants to go back out, though.”

“I doubt it,” Yuri remarked, “You two are so grossly sweet, he’d probably be just as happy being your housewife forever.” 

“Mm,” Yuuri sighed, noncommittally.

“Also, we all  _ almost died _ ,” Yuri pointed out, “Why do you think he wants to go back?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri admitted. “Old habits die hard.”

Yuri shuddered at that, and at a sudden winter chill. “How long are you two planning on staying?” he asked, to change the subject.

“Just until tomorrow,” Yuuri admitted, “We’re going to spend some time with my parents at home, but Victor couldn’t wait to celebrate. Though, knowing him, he’ll want to do this again once we get there…”

Yuri snorted. “He’s ridiculous.”

“He is,” Yuuri agreed, smiling fondly. 

* * *

Fall crackled into winter, which melted slowly into spring. It was a hard, bitter season. There were nights where Yuri strained, and breathed, and suffered through the motions of creating his fire but was barely able to let loose a spark. He noticed the frosty puff of his grandpa’s breath, even as he patted his back and assured him it was alright, and sank into an awful abyss of guilt.

He’d have awful hunger cravings on days when food was scarce, and be unable to force down more than a forkful on days when there was more than enough. Everything was fuzzy, blurred, or too intense - every day he felt his grandfather’s eyes on him, wondering  _ what’s wrong with you, Yuratchka? _

On rest days, he was restless - on work days, he was listless. 

Suddenly, it was spring and his birthday had come and gone. Victor and Yuuri sent him a letter wishing him well, wondering if he would come visit their little paradise within the inner walls.

They’d been by once or twice in the interim period, and from what Yuri understood, they both were taking a very long vacation. He didn’t blame them, and he’d enjoyed the time spent practicing his fighting technique with Yuuri. 

Even if he had needed to field multiple questions about his impending knighthood, and his relationship with Otabek.

Victor had even offered to give him a bit of a fencing lesson, and he’d revelled in the way the news spread,  _ renowned knight Victor Nikiforov teaching one of our own to sword fight _ . It was much better than all the other rumors about him.

He was sixteen, now - old enough to get a job. Old enough to get married, in some parts of the kingdom. 

Spring drew a warm breeze across his cheeks.

The familiar rumble of horse’s hooves echoed from where Yuri was crouching, picking out weeds to prepare their garden for planting. 

Otabek waved at him, armor glinting in the midday sun. His hair was freshly cut, his clothing brand new, military standard order, and the deep blue color of a new recruit. 

Yuri smiled and waved back, tucking a piece of his blonde hair behind his ear. It was still short - Yuri had noticed it growing longer, once, and hacked it off sloppily in terror. His grandpa had cleaned up the edges, evening it out so that the townspeople didn’t whisper any more than they already did.

_Yuri Plisetsky is acting strange, don’t you agree?_ _What do you think happened to him in the woods?_

He dismounted at the edge of Yuri’s property, walking over to where Yuri was crouched in the earth. Otabek noticed Yuri’s red-rimmed eyes, the purple bags of exhaustion under them, and the way his hands shook even as he pulled weeds from the earth. “Still not sleeping well, hm?” 

Yuri sighed and shook his head. “Grandpa’s noticed. He keeps trying to wheedle answers out of me, and I can’t make excuses for much longer. I...” His voice caught in his throat. “I almost yelled at him the other day. It hurts too much to remember.”

Otabek crouched to Yuri’s height and put his hand on Yuri’s shoulder. Yuri grasped it and ran his thumb along the calloused knuckles. 

“Do you think your grandpa will go for it?” Otabek asked. “Our trip?”

Yuri sighed. “I hope so. I can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

At that moment, Grandpa Plisetsky emerged from inside the house, waving cheerily at Otabek. “Otabek,” he called, “Are you staying for dinner again?” 

Otabek raised his head. “Sure, if that’s okay with you.” 

“Of course, of course,” He waved his hand. “Now, Yuri, were you clearing out the weeds before dinner?”

Yuri winced, but he nodded, eyes fixed on the crackled brown underfoot. He’d been picking, one at a time, because he was too tired to make the fire. 

The first shoots of spring signaled the beginning of the planting season. The spring onions were growing wild along the creeks and village streams, and Yuri spent the warming afternoons worrying about the future.

He wondered about being a knight. From what he understood, they were aware of the bandit problem, and were sending out even more manpower to deal with it. But how could he make sure it stayed that way? 

The flames he made weren’t as strong as before, and he faltered as his neighbor’s eyes slid to him, struggling along. What did he  _ want _ ? From Otabek, from life?

Yuri shook his head. He didn’t know. He still smelled the awful burning sometimes, but it mostly got swept aside by everything else that kept him up at night. 

With a sweeping wave of his hands, the last bits of debris crumbled to ash before him. The crunch of footsteps echoed behind him, loud in the silent field. 

“Good work, Yuratchka,” Grandpa Plisetsky said, voice rumbling in his old age. 

“Thanks, Dedushka,” Yuri responded. He toed at the ground beneath his feet, pushing aside the earth. 

“Ah, look at this,” his grandpa called, pointing down to a sliver of green underneath the ash. “I wonder what this sprout will grow into?” 

“Hopefully not another weed,” Yuri grumbled, cracking his knuckles.

* * *

 

Over a hot, filling dinner of cabbage soup, Yuri brought up the subject of taking a trip to the main castle walls. It was a quick, simple trip - a few hours there, stay with Yuuri and Victor at the family hotsprings, have Otabek deliver a proposal to the castle walls. Deliver the maps he’d spent so many meticulous months drawing out.

Yuri’s grandpa narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “So soon? It’s barely spring.”

Yuri bit his lip to swallow down his snappy response. “I’m… I’m getting cabin fever. The neighbors won’t stop  _ looking _ at me.”

“I’ll be there the whole time,” Otabek chimed in, “And we’ll be back in two days.” 

Yuri’s grandfather shook his head. “No, Yuri. I’m sorry, I - I need you here for planting.”

Yuri’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I can’t - I can’t pick the weeds myself, I need help,” he replied gruffly, not meeting Yuri’s gaze.

Yuri was a blaze of anger, “You can’t keep me here, you-”

“Mr. Plisetsky,” Otabek cut in, “I know you’re worried. You think he won’t come back.”

Grandpa Plisetsky looked surprised, not only because it was probably the most words Otabek had strung together at once around him. 

Yuri bit his lip, already embarrassed by his outburst. Once again, he’d needed Otabek when he simply wasn’t able to find the words.

“You’re right,” Yuri’s grandfather sighed, “You’re right. I’m just… I’m just worried about you, Yura.” 

Yuri didn’t know what to say to that. It was a valid sentiment, but one that Yuri was loathe to agree with. It was only another reminder of what happened, of the stress he dealt with daily.

“I’ll be fine,” he whispered, knowing how incomplete an answer it was. The entire exchange felt awkward, unfinished - a half-completed conversation with no real resolution in sight.

It got him the nod of approval from his grandfather, though, and that was really what mattered. At least, Yuri hoped.

* * *

 

It was a few hours to the main castle walls. Otabek and Yuri set out at first light and arrived at the gates with the sun high in the noon-day sky. 

The town center was bustling and brimming with life, with merchants hawking their wares and men and women haggling with squawking salespeople. They spent some time wandering, taking in the sights and sounds and smells of the big city, before moving on their way to Yuuri’s family hotsprings. 

The greeting was warm and inviting, steam hot from the baths curling out the door as Yuuri ushered them in. He looked  _ good _ \- much better than the few times they’d seen each other over the course of the winter. His eyes were a warm, shining amber, his cheeks round, even a soft round pudge at his belly. 

“Hey, Yuri, Otabek - please, come in.”

“Yurio, Otabek,” Victor called from behind, sneaking up to snake his arms around Yuuri’s waist, grabbing the softness of Yuuri’s stomach. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Otabek said, simply, and Yuri couldn’t help but be grateful that he’d answered. “How’s married life treating you?”

“Oh,  _ wonderful _ ,” Victor cooed, nuzzling into Yuuri’s neck, “We are the picture of domestic bliss. Yuuri made the most delicious katsudon the other day - have you had katsudon? It’s breaded pork cutlet.”

“I’ll make some for you tonight,” Yuuri smiled warmly, rolling his eyes at Victor’s tendency to exaggerate, “Come on, you can put your things down and relax in a bath.” 

“No time to relax,” Otabek explained, “I have an appointment with the royal archives in an hour.”

“Oh! Let me take you,” Victor said, bouncing up and down without letting go of Yuuri. “I know the man in charge personally - I can put in a good word.”

Otabek smiled. “That would be nice of you.”

“Also, let’s get you changed out of those clothes. You reek of horse.”

The smile slipped from Otabek’s face.

* * *

 

Yuuri set Yuri up in a smaller room with a private bath, a gesture Yuri was grateful for to an extent that it would hurt his pride to admit. He sunk into the hot, hot water, letting it soak over him and soothe the travel aches from his limbs.

After a while, Yuuri popped in, bringing with him a set of hot towels, and Yuri started before relaxing.

“How do you like the bath?” Yuuri asked, gently.

Yuri shrugged. “It’s nice,” he admitted, a little self-conscious at his nudity. “A little big.”

“That’s the style,” Yuuri explained. “Though it is big enough to fit two.”

Yuri frowned. He and Otabek were sharing a room - would Otabek want to share a bath as well? Otabek had only seen him naked once, and that was when he was tied up in the forest, nude not by his own volition. 

He shuddered at the memory and wrapped his arms around his skinny knees.

Yuuri noticed the change in mood and came to sit beside him, and Yuri shrunk at the intensity of his expression. “How are  _ you _ doing, Yuri?” 

Yuri winced. “Okay, I guess?” he sighed and buried his head in his hands, “Okay, not really. I can barely sleep still. And everyone in town keeps talking about how weird I’m acting.”

Yuuri smiled sadly, sympathetically. Annoyance bubbled up in Yuri. 

“Do you have any advice,” he snapped, “Or are you just gonna look at me, all sad?” 

Yuuri puffed out a breath, awkward and unsure, unused to talking so candidly. “For me, I found that talking to Victor about what I needed and building up my confidence again through practice was helpful. Have you talked to anyone?”

“Only you,” Yuri admitted. He closed his eyes. That wasn’t entirely true - he talked to Otabek sometimes. Otabek’s presence calmed him, even if he didn’t quite know what to say.

“Do what you think will be helpful,” Yuuri said, “But don’t be afraid to talk to the people who love you.”

“You and Victor are gross,” Yuri sniffed. He could barely continue, a sudden lump appearing in his throat. No one had seen him naked since Otabek, since the bandits before, and the casual way Yuuri spoke to him made his flesh crawl. 

Did Yuuri and Victor bathe together? Did they wash each other’s hair? Did they…?

Yuri had never been in a relationship before, not even a _tiptoe around the words_ _while holding hands and kissing each other’s cheeks_ relationship like his current one. Was he holding back too much? Did Otabek want more? Did _Yuri_ want more? 

Should he want more? Yuri remembered listening to his neighbor, Mila, giggling about her first boyfriend, seeing them sneaking off into the woods sometimes. His mind was racing, and every time he thought about how  _ happy  _ Otabek made him his anxiety supplied the same frightening question: Was he supposed to want sex now? 

“What’s wrong, Yuri?” Yuuri fretted. 

“Do you and Victor sleep together?” Yuri blurted out, unable to stop himself with his whirling thoughts. 

Yuuri blushed bright red and Yuri regretted asking immediately. 

“Forget I said anything,” he spluttered, waving his hands before blanching at how uncovered he was without them. Yuri half-wished his hair was long again, so he could cover himself. 

“Why… Why do you ask?” Yuuri spluttered, trying to calm himself from the shock of such a question, “Has… Has Otabek been-?”

“No!” Yuri gasped, offended Yuuri would even ask that. “No. I just… I don’t know where to go from here.” Yuri bit his lip, then and figured if he was going to embarrass himself with personal questions, he’d go all out. “Otabek is the only person I’ve talked to about any of this. Since we’re sort of in a relationship, I think we’ll have to have sex at some point, but I don’t know if I want to. Should I want to? I mean, I guess I  _ have _ technically-”

“Don’t say that,” Yuuri cut in, “That doesn’t… It doesn’t count.”

Yuri bit his lip. “But it  _ was _ .”

“It wasn’t,” Yuuri said, forcefully, like he was reminding himself as well. “Someone shoving cake down your throat isn’t the same as you eating.”

“I just… I was supposed to go home, and everything was supposed to be normal. Normal life, normal grandpa, normal Otabek.” Yuri shook his head, “So why can’t I sleep? Why do I refuse to let my grandpa talk to me? Why am I so worried about both leading Otabek on too much and pushing him away, sometimes at the same time?” 

Yuuri smiled, sadly, and Yuri had a sudden urge to set more things on fire to hurt whoever had put the nervous tint in his gaze. It scared him, the intensity of the emotion.

“I have more answers than I did back in the forest,” Yuuri murmured, “But not all of them. I did… I did think what you were thinking though, about Victor. It’s a delicate balance, putting your trust in someone while also making sure you can survive on your own.” 

“Well,” Yuri demanded, “How did you do it?”

Yuuri wrung his hands together. “I’m sorry, Yuri, I don’t… I’m not…” He sighed, “I don’t know.”

Yuri frowned. “I keep fighting with my grandpa. He tries to keep me indoors so nothing bad ever happens to me again, but being indoors makes me feel trapped all over again, but I can’t  _ tell _ him that because that would mean telling him what’s happened, and… and…”

There were tears beading at the corners of his eyes and he ducked his head to hide them. 

At that moment, the door to the bath swung open, and the forms of both Otabek and Victor appeared in the door. Yuri blanched and tried to cover himself at the breach of privacy, breathing quickening, becoming shallow. 

“Vitya,” Yuuri snapped, rushing to close the door, “Yuri’s in the  _ bath _ .”

“Oops! Sorry, sorry, c’mon Otabek, let’s go get something to eat-”

Yuri shook. He hated how on edge he still was.

“Deep breaths,” Yuuri soothed. “It was an accident. Yuri, I - you’re  _ young _ . Even if this hadn’t happened, you shouldn’t be worrying about sleeping with your boyfriend just yet, if you don’t  _ really _ want to.”

“I haven’t even called him that,” Yuri sighed. “I need him, but I can’t let him help me. It’s like that with my grandpa, too.” 

Yuuri bit his lip and brushed a strand of soft golden hair out of Yuri’s face. “It takes time,” he said.

Yuri frowned. Suddenly, a thought hit him out of the blue, and he had to laugh at its absurdity, its matter of fact bluntness. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to bond over something other than how much it sucks that we were both raped?”

Yuuri froze and shuddered, full bodied, and Yuri regret for a moment that he’d let the words slip past his lips. With an obvious effort, though Yuuri shook his head and gave Yuri a soft smile. 

“I hope so,” he said, “I’ve grown to like you.” 

Yuri bristled with indignation that Yuuri hadn’t liked him from the start before remembering their first conversation with some measure of shame. He snapped his mouth shut. 

“Let’s see, what else do I do besides worry my family?” Yuuri joked, self-deprecating, “I like to cook. I used to dance, though I mostly stopped once I started training.”

“Dance?” Yuri questioned. “Ballet?”

Yuuri nodded, blushing. “Everyone always said it was silly, but it’s helped me, so I don’t know-”

“No, no,” Yuri assured him, “I’m just saying because, well, I did too.”

Yuuri smiled, crinkling his face warmly. “Okay, so we have one good thing and one bad thing in common. We can work with that.”

“Worrying our families and dancing,” Yuri responded with a smile of his own, “Sounds about right.”

* * *

 

Dinner was an awkward affair. Yuri was still a little bit on edge after being walked in on in the bath - Yuuri, apparently, had no such fears about public nudity, probably from his family owning a bath house in the city. Yuuri also hadn’t spent a good two weeks tied up and naked in the back of a bandit caravan. 

He’d wanted to try out the famous hot mineral baths of the city, but maybe that had been a mistake. At home, he needed to shut off all the lights before bathing because his own body frightened him, cold and pale in the dusty bathroom mirrors.

Yuuri placed down two hot, steaming bowls of the most tantalizing looking pork cutlet Yuri had ever seen. It was a golden, deep-fried brown over fluffy white rice - and Yuri didn’t think he could stomach any of it.

He needed to eat some, though - if he didn’t Yuuri would ask him what was wrong, and he’d need to have  _ another _ conversation about how he couldn’t do anything. Yuri started to panic, shoulders shaking, caught between a rock and a hard place. 

Then, Otabek came to sit beside him, hair still wet from the bath. Droplets of water dripped down his neck and pooled in the curve of his clavicle. Yuri swallowed. 

He wrapped a warm, strong arm around Yuri’s shoulders, and Yuri felt some semblance of an appetite come back to him. Across the way, Victor slid behind Yuuri, pressing his entire body into Yuuri’s back. There was an almost imperceptible shift - Yuuri melted into the touch, body draining of all stress, and he picked up his own chopsticks to eat. 

Yuri noticed how they maintained contact at all times, how Victor’s arm never left Yuuri’s shoulders. Otabek had removed his arm to eat, but Yuri felt calmer in his presence. He frowned, not sure what to make of any of it. The katsudon was delicious, though, and Yuri gladly gobbled up all of it.

* * *

 

That night, Yuri slipped into Otabek’s bed in their shared room, and he lay there behind him, hand caressing Otabek’s shoulders. 

Otabek jolted, slightly, but he relaxed almost immediately once he realized who it was. He’d done that since the incident with the bandits in the woods - Yuri kept forgetting to alert him before giving him a gentle touch, and he always ached with guilt at the fearful flash across Otabek’s face.

Yuri pressed his forehead into Otabek’s back. “I can only sleep when you’re next to me,” he admitted, glad Otabek couldn’t see his blush. “I noticed it after the second time you came over. When I’m alone, I’m slipping in and out of nightmares, but with you…”

Otabek’s back rumbled with the vibrations of his voice. “I could… I could stay over more often, if you think it’d help.”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like it. I like you, but I can’t help but feel like I’m holding you back. You barely talk to your fellow knights.”

Otabek winced. “That’s all me. Years of solitude really stunts your ability to socialize. I was going to tell you, though… I’m going to take a trip out with them soon, not far, but outside the village for a few days.” 

“See what I mean, though? You won’t be around forever.” 

Otabek turned so he and Yuri were face to face, their noses barely touching. 

“I could be around forever,” he murmured.

Yuri smiled, and he cupped Otabek’s cheek with his palm. “You’re sweet, Otabek, and I don’t want to say no to that, but…” he sighed and looked away, pained. “I want to  _ want _ you, I don’t want to  _ need _ you.” 

“What do you want to do, then?” Otabek asked, gently. 

Yuri sighed, a tinge of frustration in his tone. “I don’t  _ know _ . I don’t know what to do, or what to expect. I’ve never done this before.”

“I haven’t either,” Otabek admitted. “It was just me and my horse for a good few years.”

“So you don’t…” Yuri bit his lip, “So you don’t have any… Expectations? For me?”

Otabek frowned and flipped around so they faced each other. “Expectations?” 

“Yeah,” Yuri tried to stay flippant, but the tremble in his voice betrayed him. “I mean, you know, like… Since we’re together…”

“I don’t,” Otabek said, slowly, “I don’t… No, I don’t have expectations. Yuri, I don’t know… Anything.”

Even in the darkness of the room, Yuri saw the dark, embarrassed flush creeping along Otabek’s cheeks, and he stifled a giggle.

“That’s not what I meant,” Otabek mumbled. “I know I want to be near you, but I was just a little older than you when my village burned down, so I never really got to be with anyone. I don’t know what I  _ would _ expect.”

Yuri hummed, pressing their noses together. He worried, constantly, whether he was acting  _ normal _ . Whether his assault was encroaching on his relationship. Whether there was a right way to do everything.

Apparently, there wasn’t. Or if there was, Otabek was as clueless about it as he was. Yuri pressed a kiss to Otabek’s cheek, relishing in the nervous flush spreading down to his neck, up to his ears. 

That, it turned out,  _ was _ a comfort.

* * *

 

Yuuri’s love for Victor was different than Yuri’s. It was passionate, borderline obsessive - the love of two people who had been moulded out of earth for each other. If Yuuri cracked, Victor would pull himself apart to fill in the gaps. 

Yuri didn’t quite want that. There wasn’t anything wrong with Yuuri and Victor’s love, especially since basking in its glow in the hot, steaming baths had brought a new, healthy color to Yuuri’s cheeks over the past few months. 

It did mean that Yuri couldn’t follow the same strategy as his friend did to get better, at least not exactly. 

He caught Yuuri in the bath the morning that he and Otabek were slated to leave. Yuuri smiled at him and wrapped his wet arms around his knees, preserving a little more of his own modesty.

“Bad night?” Yuri asked, sympathetically.

Yuuri shuddered and nodded. “It doesn’t happen as often,” he assured Yuri, and Yuri felt a spark of righteous anger that Yuuri was still trying to protect him, despite his own sadness.

“I wanted to thank you,” Yuri mumbled, “For everything. For all your help recently. You know you always have a place to stay, if you come out our way.” 

Yuuri smiled. He shivered.

“Cold?” Yuri asked, cocking his head to the side. 

Yuuri nodded. “I, ah, took too long before getting in the bath, and now it’s gone lukewarm.”

Yuri grinned. He stuck his palms under the water and let them slowly heat up, taking care to monitor the temperature. Yuuri leaned back with a sigh of relief. Yuri’s eyes slid to a sliver of a white scar on his shoulder, where the arrow had pierced him those months ago.

At that moment, Victor popped in, clad in a soft green robe. 

“Oh, Yurio,” he chirped, “Good morning. Headed off so soon?”

Yuri nodded, bristling at the nickname. “My grandpa will worry.” 

“I should go see you off, then,” Victor fretted, “I’m sorry, we assumed you’d be heading off later.” 

“It’s alright,” Yuri murmured, “We packed light, stay in here with Yuuri. Thank you for having us.” 

Victor looked torn, but Yuuri reached out to clasp his hand, and Yuri nodded that it was okay. 

“We’ll visit you soon,” Yuuri promised.

“I think I’d rather visit you,” Yuri admitted. “It’s been nice, getting out.”

* * *

All too soon, the familiar confines of Yuri’s village loomed in the distance. Yuri sighed, mulling over his thoughts, his springtime revelations. In the span of one month in the woods, the circle of people he truly, deeply cared about had grown from one to four.

It wasn’t lost on him, then, that the previous  _ one _ was the person he’d shut out the most in the past few months. Yuri bit his lip. He hadn’t really had a choice with Yuuri, Victor, and Otabek - in the woods, his trauma had been splayed out and raw for anyone’s consumption. Here, he was supposed to be getting over it.

Yuri’s grandfather was waiting, worriedly, in the garden by their house, and Yuri felt a twinge of guilt. He’d just wanted to take some time off, but as the bounce of the horse slowed, he had a vision of his beloved dedushka wondering if he’d be taken after this trip, whether this time Yuri really wouldn’t come home. 

If he’d stayed in much longer, Yuri would have gone insane. Because he’d left, he’d caused his grandfather a good bit of stress. 

Yuri wished, not for the first time, that none of this had ever happened, even if it had gotten him to meet Otabek. Everything was so simple before, and now nothing was more complicated than the simple question of Yuri’s independence. 

“How was your trip?” Yuri’s grandfather asked, trying to hide his worry behind a gruff grin.

“Good,” Yuri replied, “Have you ever been to the hot springs? They’re really relaxing.” 

Whatever Yuri’s grandfather said, it wasn’t important in that moment. They’d need to talk about something more serious eventually - this couldn’t last forever. Yuuri’s words echoed in Yuri’s mind - he was  _ young _ . Young and naive and trying to handle a trauma on top of the normal growing pains of adulthood. 

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

He wanted to  _ do something about it _ . Knighthood wasn’t for him - going back into the forest still left a bad taste in his mouth, but surely there was some other way. Somehow, he could influence the laws of the land, get more comprehensive defence so no one else went through what he had, what Yuuri had. 

  
Yuri let the little spark of inspiration flicker inside of him, tucked it away in the back of his mind. For now, though, he had a grandfather and wheat fields and his own healing to tend to.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me on [tumblr](https://revampired.tumblr.com)!


End file.
